


Twenty-Six Little Letters

by jarofhearts



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Creation Myth, Drama, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, First Time, Fluff, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Liverpool F.C., M/M, Parenthood, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Slavery, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 22,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/jarofhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind every letter of the alphabet, there's a story, unconfined to time, space, or reality. The constant is always Dan and Fernando. Always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A

**Author's Note:**

> All of these one-shots or drabbles were done for the Alphabet Challenge going round on LiveJournal a couple of years ago. They're all entirely unrelated to one another, and range from entirely harmless PG-rated fluff to very, very serious topics, dubious moralities, and trigger-worthy stuff. They're also all centered heavily around Dan and Fernando, all other mentioned characters in the tags only play very minor roles.
> 
> All that said, I hope you enjoy!

Angels

_We were holding back the flood, they said we'd never dance again._  
 _Now they'll never dance again._

* * *

We don’t know how life was first sparked, how sun and earth and skies came into existence. Not how the first blossom bloomed, the first well spluttered, or the first breath of wind caressed the trees.

We only remember how we awoke to raise our eyes and blink into the sunlight, how we got up and stretched our bodies, newborn, free, euphoric. In wonder we walked the planes and mountains of what we had been given, our naked feet the first to ever touch that ground, from the deepest dark ravines to the highest, snow-sparkling tops. We explored and played and discovered, some of us the tranquil power of the earth, some the gentle strength of water, some the fickle enigma of fire and some the wild freedom of the winds. We chased each other over boundless green fields and swam in endless blue seas.

Earth was our home, our playground, our paradise.

And I remember it all as clear as day. The bursts of colour. The explosion of life. This miracle that had been created.

But above all, I remember you.

How you looked at me, eyes dark and clear, colour of the richest soil. How your hair caught the sun whenever it was out, golden and radiant, and I ached to reach out and touch it. How droplets of water would roll down your skin, drip from your fingertips, let your lips glisten whenever you stood outside to greet the rain, and I would get jealous even of them. How you smiled and laughed and took my hand to run with me, always so free, uncatchable, unchainable, never knowing any bounds. Golden and wild as the warm southern wind. And my heart was filled with so much love for you that I had to look away sometimes to keep it from bursting.

I remember your fingertips on my face. The sight of you pillowed on a green summer meadow splashed with myriads of violets. Your voice whispering in my ear, sweet little nothings, secrets, promises. Your head breaking through a crystal-clear surface, cascades of water and light. Your skin under my hands, breezes playing with the sighs falling from your lips, the sun in your eyes. To me you were like a slender birch tree, bending and swaying and dancing with the wind. You always said that I was the roots that kept you grounded.

Years turned into decades, decades turned into centuries, centuries into millennia. Animals started to walk the earth with us, fascinating, beautiful, unique creatures that we watched with joy. We ran with them, no matter how fast or slow, played with the kindest and wildest alike, swam with the nimble and the majestic.

Life was good. And every day was just another perfect day.

I remember the strange feeling springing to life in my insides when I witnessed the first humans uncurling their bodies, getting to their feet and raising their faces to the sky – just as we had once done. I remember it so well because, when I looked into your eyes, I saw the very same feeling in them, and you wordlessly buried your face against my neck.

An uncertain quietness of a quality none of us had known before lay over us in the time that followed as we watched in puzzlement those creatures looking like us and yet so, so very different. And for the very first time uneasiness grew among us, dimming our once boundless joy that simply living had always meant.

With each year that passed that dull, never-ceasing feeling in my insides grew, into nagging, constant worry. I feared what was about to come because I heard the whispers of helplessly disagreeing voices, I saw the reluctantly shaking heads and felt the slow and maybe inevitable way we drifted apart.

And my heart beat numbed by fear because it happened to you and me.

When you came to me on a day where uneasy winds ruffled the crowns of the trees, I knew the moment had come. Could see it written on your troubled face and in your beautiful, torn dark eyes. Was hardly able to breathe.

“How can this be?” you asked, your voice soft and wavering just enough for me to hear. “When I look at them, there’s no difference between us on the outside. I see how they breathe and talk and dance and sing while at the same time they’re so… flawed.”

Your breath hitched and yet you spoke on, your eyes not once leaving me.

“Their instincts are muted… they don’t even sense us when we’re right next to them. They can’t _feel_ the elements, they barely connect to their surroundings. There’s no unity between them. They’re capable of these… feelings… that make them harm each other. They kill without cause… just because they _can_.”

My heart clenched when you slowly shook your head, your eyes pleading.

“This isn’t _right_ …”

“There has to be reason to this,” I heard myself say, putting into words this belief sitting deep inside of me that I had agonised over for such a long time now, and had found that I simply couldn’t let go of. I _believed_ that there was nothing brought into creation without cause, without having its rightful place on this earth, even if I couldn’t see it. A belief I shared with many of our kind – but only about half of us. So agonisingly obvious by simply looking into your pained eyes.

“What kind of reason could that be?” You breathed out shakily, and I didn’t have an answer. I ached to reach out and take you into my arms, seek shelter and reassurance in the way you fit against me. But there was something between us that had never been there before, something that felt like a rift we couldn’t close no matter how desperately we tried, knowing that it didn’t divide only the two of us but our whole kind. And when you spoke on I felt myself shaking my head even before you were done. “Maybe for once things got out of hand.”

“No… how could that be?”

“Please,” you interrupted me, came a step closer, your eyes speaking of a kind of agony that felt like ripping my heart out. “Please come with us, _please_ …”

And I couldn’t look at you, had to close my eyes and lower my head, and the silence between us sounded like a death bell, the final verdict on everything we had ever been.

The last thing I heard from you was a soft, choked sob.

You left without another word, and for the first time in my life I was alone.

The time that came was darker than the blackest of nights. Getting used to living without you wasn’t something I would ever be able put into words. I only know that I didn’t want to run across our fields anymore, didn’t want to swim in our seas, couldn’t find even a single smile in me. There was a hole inside me that felt like ice cold water creeping up to my chest, paralysing each and every breath. Like a never closing wound, blood pouring and pouring for agonising millennia.

And throughout that time we who had stayed behind could do nothing but watch impassively, how humanity built their first civilisations, how they had their first skirmishes, how they evolved and spread out and proliferated and claimed more and more space. They built cities and monuments and transformed nature to stone, they enslaved their own kind and invented devices with the sole purpose of inflicting pain, they killed and fought more wars, each bigger and crueller than the one before. And eventually they started taking more than what earth would give them, and we watched with bleeding hearts how they carelessly exploited what was dearest to us. Helpless anger rising in our guts as we remembered how much we had sacrificed because we had believed that they had a place in this world.

And every time that anger became too much for one of us, it burst out through the forces of the elements most attuned to us that we couldn’t and wouldn’t contain. And each time humanity wailed and mourned their losses, and yet they never really wondered why.

And eventually the day came when our faith, our belief, our patience and endurance were exhausted. We wanted our lives back. We wanted our home back. We wanted our kin back. 

We wanted paradise back.

So we rose up and unleashed our elements, not in bursts of anger as had happened before, but calculated and deliberate, bringing about what mankind called Apocalypse. Oceans were leaving the shores they had lazily caressed before, piling up and flooding the lands. Volcanoes erupted, fire and ashes burning down everything their smouldering tendrils touched. Winds gathered force of unknown magnitude, ravaging storms and swirling tornadoes. And I reached for the deep, already quivering foundations of our earth, and with others of my kin we undid all bounds and shook the ground until it tore open in rifts and chasms and brought to ruins their stone castles and glass temples.

And through it all I had found a place in one of those cathedrals they were so proud of. I stood in the midst of their enormous stone shrine, face raised to the vast dome up above, and watched it tremble. Only a question of time before it would cave and was brought down, and with every statue that crashed to the ground, every bit of stone that was undone, a small burden was lifted from my heart, unfreezing my chest, and I could finally breathe again.

It wasn’t really that my ears picked up footsteps in the furore of thundering destruction around me, but rather my heart that tugged at my senses and told me to turn my head. And when I did I saw you standing there, and simply the sight was enough to heal the gaping wound that had been torn the last time my eyes had taken in the sight of you. And you grasped my hand and _smiled_ , and my heart pounded with a joy nearly forgotten, bringing me back to the way our world had been right at our start, washed clean and carefree. And all we had to do was clear up wreckage and ruins and start again.

Your face was warm under my hand, your eyes clear and bright, your lips soft and sweet. I kissed you as the earth shook and the winds rose up, swirling the debris of the shattering dome around us. And you and I stood in the eye of our storm as the world around us was reborn.


	2. B

Birthday

_I got a surprise, a present that you'll like._

* * *

When he awoke it was with a moan, because the first thing he noticed was the slick, tight heat around his cock, delicious, familiar pressure, and then, when he blinked, he saw those warm dark eyes looking down into his own, tousled blond hair, a smile he adored beyond imagination, and Dan thought he was in heaven.

“Good morning,” Fernando rasped and bent down to bite gently into Dan’s lower lip. “Today’s your birthday…”

“Oh…” Dan gasped, hands flying to Fernando’s hips, holding on to him. “I know… oh shit…”

“I thought you should start it in the best way possible.”

“Oh God I love you…”

Fernando chuckled, teasingly tightening around him, covering Dan’s hands with his own to intertwine their fingers.

“Oh, you’d better. Come on, birthday boy… fuck me.”

There was no way on earth Dan could have refused, even if he had wanted to.


	3. C

Chains

_Have I found you, flightless bird, broken, bleeding?_

* * *

The heat was suffocating, the sun burning mercilessly down onto his bare skin. The simmering air was filled with a multitude of voices, a foreign language, harsh to his ears. He had long stopped looking at his surroundings though, had buried his face in the crook of his arm and behind his sun bleached, brittle hair and had tried to think himself away, far away. Away from the dirt covering his skin and the aching dryness in his throat, away from the shackles around his wrists, holding his arms above his head, away from the soft, distressed sounds coming from the girls and few boys around him, away from the knowledge of why and what for they were being offered up on a platter like cattle.  
  
But most of all away from the men circling him almost constantly. From the gazes that roamed up and down his body, the rough hands feeling him up, probing, prodding, squeezing, the fingers slipping underneath the loincloth and into him, sliding, stabbing, hurting.  
  
He simply detached his mind and floated away to a place where all this didn’t exist, where he was still back home and where the simple wish to die wasn’t his constant companion.  
  
Then he was brought back to reality though, but because this time, the hand touching him wasn’t like all the ones before.  
  
First there was a fleeting touch on his shoulder, and then fingers on his chin, gently drawing his head around, revealing his face from where it had been hiding. And he blinked into the harsh sunlight, his breathing flat and troubled, and then he looked into the face of a young man with short dark hair, an inscrutable expression, but undeniably warm eyes.  
  
It was the first time anyone actually  _looked_  at him.  
  
The man held his gaze for a few moments that seemed to stretch and expand, and right then he felt more vulnerable than ever since they had chained him to this spot.  
  
Then the man let go and took a step back, turned and vanished in the masses of people and he closed his eyes and tried to find his rhythm of breathing again.  
  
When the auction came he simply stood where they had dragged him, head lowered, and let it all wash over him, the voices shouting out words or phrases, the slave trader monitoring, the short silence and then another voice throwing in a bid, the soft murmur of the crowd, the trader sealing his fate.  
  
Finally he was dragged to the edge of the platform and pushed down the four steps of wooden stairs that made him stumble and fall to his knees in the dirt, right before a pair of feet that didn’t retreat. But then a thin cloak was laid over his shoulders and made him wince as it touched the sunburnt skin, he was drawn slowly to his feet, and when he glanced up he saw the only face he had really looked at that day.  
  
And something inside of him broke down in relief.  
  
The next thing he became aware of was a flask of water in his hands, and without even thinking about it he raised it, and the water touching his chapped, split lips hurt and soothed at the same time. And when he was done and looked into the young man’s face again where a barely detectable smile had appeared that made his heart flutter for just a moment, he wondered if, against all odds, his constant companion would let go of him that day.


	4. D

Dance

  _When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings._

* * *

Fernando was just warming up, stretching his legs, rolling his feet and shoulders, bending his body in half when the door to the training room opened and his dancing partner appeared in the doorway.  
  
His heart fluttered in his chest, and as Daniel smiled at him the purpose of their encounter was momentarily lost somewhere in the space between them. But when Xabi, their choreographer, walked in only two steps behind, he was sucked back into the reality of the mirror-clad room, averted his gaze and rose to his bare feet.  
  
Fernando admitted unashamedly to himself that he was nervous. It was only logical, there was a lot that depended on what was going to happen in the next few minutes. This production was going to tour the whole of UK as a flagship of contemporary dancing, progressive, fresh, unconventional, telling three different love stories in dance and song, and among them one between two men. Practice had been going on for weeks, and everything had been going well – until Fernando’s partner had broken his foot.  
  
Daniel had been one of the newest faces at the academy, and so there was no one, Daniel himself included, that hadn’t been surprised when it had been announced that he was the one that had been chosen to partner Fernando now. But they all trusted Xabi unconditionally when it came to everything involving their dancing, and that was that, really. So if he thought that Daniel could learn the routines quickly enough and, more importantly, they’d be good together, then there was no one who’d protest.  
  
Fernando didn’t know a lot about the tall, dark-haired man with the freckles dotting his face, but for what they did, he didn’t need to. It was enough that there seemed mutual sympathy between them whenever they exchanged a few passing words. What would be most important for their dance and the roles they portrayed though, was, simply put, chemistry. They would absolutely need to feel comfortable in each other’s personal space for this to work, to connect for those short minutes the music and their dance would tell a story. Because without it, their dance would be just movements strung together and their connection off like a hyperbola forever trying to reach its axis.  
  
So yes, Fernando was definitely nervous.  
  
“Alright you two, let’s do this,” Xabi addressed them both when Fernando had reached them and Daniel had deposited his bag, giving the dancers a calm, confident smile. “Fernando, remember to relax your shoulders, Daniel, facial expression. And more important than anything: pour your hearts into this. Now is where it counts.”  
  
They both nodded and Fernando glanced at his partner, his heart fluttering again like a baby bird unsure if in taking that leap, it would fly or fall. But Daniel gave him another smile, soft and just between the two of them, and it reigned in his nerves with a gentle, steady hand.  
  
Xabi turned to get the music while both dancers took their positions, and after the rustling had died down there was a span of a few heartbeats of absolute silence. Fernando breathed deeply, head lowered, eyes closed, and recalled the story, his – their story. That tentative awe of meeting a person that suddenly shifts the axis of every single one of your thoughts, that sweeps aside upbringing and expectations and restrictions with one look, with a single touch. That makes you think you can forget it all and frees you of everything confining – until the bonds take hold and snap back. And this dance they were about to do was the most important for them, and for their characters. The make or break of their relationship – and if they clicked here, they could also do the rest.  
  
The first soft notes filled the room, calm and somewhere between sad and longing, and Fernando let them fill him, spread from his head to his chest, into his arms and legs to the very tips of his fingers and toes, and allowed them to take up their strings and direct him.  
  
While Xabi had practiced with Daniel to help him catch up as quickly as possible, Fernando had worked on perfecting the routine he already knew. So when he danced it now he didn’t have to think about the next move, it came instinctively as breathing, standing up, arm movement, triplet, spin, torso spiral, the motions rippling through his body just like through water. And he was alone, uncertain, torn about what to do and where his choices would take him. Remembering harsh words and rejection, disappointed, angry faces that made him want to slump down and give in. But also remembering soft smiles, gentle touches, warmth and serenity that made him want to throw everything into the wind and take a leap.  
  
Fernando felt the moment he wasn’t alone anymore like a voice whispering in his ear, like warm breath ghosting over the back of his neck, and he didn’t even have to look to know Daniel had entered the radius of his awareness, watching, uncertainty and longing in his every move, like his hand wanting to come up and reach out for him but not quite daring to, or the way he looked away and then back, taking a few steps closer and then stopping again.  
  
But eventually he reached him and Fernando all but melted into him, finding effortless synchrony in their jumps, twists, pirouettes and lifts, warm, strong hands on his sides and back and hips and thighs, soft like caresses. And yet he was pulled back again by invisible strings around the heart, making it waver between _closer_ and _stay away_ , and when Fernando’s hands found Daniel’s chest to push him away he couldn’t even look him in the eyes, pleading quietly for understanding. He couldn’t, couldn’t do this, but when he tried to run he was caught by arms around his waist, tenderly trying to keep him close, and he just wanted to curl up in them and _stop_. But again he turned his back, chest tight as if lacking air, trying to defy gravity, not understanding why he had to be so insistent when he tried to keep him away, and they framed the space between their hearts with a climaxing whirl of moves and emotions in energetic, nimble, perfect synchrony. And how it hurt to reject the devastated but still hopeful touches, to slide out of those hands, to push away once more, to shove so hard he stumbled to his knees and crumbled to the ground, shoulders quivering, forehead touching the floor.  
  
There they were, one fallen and broken, one standing where he had been pushed away to, as if an invisible barrier had been thrown up between them and he didn’t know if he could overcome it anymore.  
  
The knowledge that it was all his own doing kept Fernando weighed down where he was curled up, and before his inner eye he saw Daniel turn, heart-broken and hesitant, but leaving nevertheless, because what other choice did he have?  
  
It was a touch on his shoulder that made him lift his head, confusion, wonder, that tiny spark of hope as he looked up into Daniel’s face because still, after everything, he hadn’t given up on him. And only when a hand came up to touch his cheek, trembling thumb brushing over his cheekbone, Fernando realised that there were tears wetting his face.  
  
They remained like this for a timeless moment, a look in Daniel’s eyes that was so tender it almost broke Fernando’s heart and left him with no strength to fight any more. So he stayed on his knees before the other man in silent, unconditional surrender, ready to offer everything he would be willing to take. But with the unwavering affection all his previous touches had held Daniel raised him to his feet, always right there behind him, arm around his waist, folding him into an embrace of strength and support, and helped his weak, quivering legs to walk again as the last soft notes of the music faded.  
  
For a moment everything returned to silence and stillness and Fernando blinked as if waking after a long dream, chest heaving air into his lungs, limbs trembling. But then the arm around him squeezed gently and he was turned around, and Fernando, head reeling, looked up at Daniel who was breathing just as deeply, lips parted, gaze searching his. His hand came up again to cup Fernando’s face, quickly brushing away the tears, and he asked, “Are you okay?” And Fernando nodded and reached out with shaking fingers to adjust the collar of Daniel’s shirt, and then they both looked over at their choreographer, unable yet to let go while they were still catching their breath and letting the adrenaline die away.  
  
When Xabi just looked at them with a smile, and then gave them one single, gentle nod, a wordless, happy sound spilled from Fernando’s lips, Daniel laughed, and in a simultaneous motion neither of them even thought about their arms were around each other. And in this light-headed, dazed state of exertion, the air still charged with emotion, Fernando simply held on to Daniel and smiled.  
  
Because they were going to be everything he had ever hoped for.


	5. E

End

  _Wir haben immer gekämpft und kein Sandkorn verschenkt,  
und jetzt stehen wir hier und ich bereue nichts._

* * *

So this was the end.  
  
He wasn’t afraid, wasn’t panicked or even nervous. His heart was beating in his chest, calm and young and strong, and filled to the brink with the life he had amassed in his years.  
  
He looked over to where his lover was standing, hands bound just like his own, and let himself get lost in his sight one more time. The features composed, the bearing dignified, but what he really saw were the details, the curve of his lips, the serenity of his eyes, the distinctiveness of his freckles, and he remembered kissing each and every one of them.  
  
Then his gaze was returned, and the softest of smiles was given to him, private, affectionate, the open _‘I love you’_ as strong as it had always been.  
  
There was nothing more to add.  
  
They had fought for what they believed in, they had lived and loved with everything they had, they had never doubted, never hesitated, never strayed.  
  
And he didn’t regret one thing.


	6. F

Flood

  _Young love must live twice only for us._

* * *

It should have only been a holiday. Two weeks of getting away from everyday life, of taking time only for each other, of lying on white Indonesian beaches and swimming in crystal clear oceans, of a few days in paradise.  
  
It had been morning, the sky a brilliant blue, the sun flooding their room, their caresses lazy, the sex slow and beautiful. Eventually Dan had left with a kiss to get something for breakfast since they had stayed in bed too long.  
  
Then the earth had started shaking.  
  
As soon as all was calm again Fernando had called Dan on his mobile, heart beating heavily, hands shaking, but he had been calmed by the mutual reassurance that everything was alright. Dan had said he’d be back in no more than twenty minutes.  
  
It was a glance outside through the window by chance, but it had him freezing where he stood and his heart stop beating. His mind couldn’t process the images of the waves crushing upon land and flooding whatever was in its wake, rows upon rows that didn’t seem to end, foaming dark water that ripped through palm trees, cars, houses, cutting down the streets, stopping at nothing, and there was more and more and more. There was no rational thinking, no realisation that the flood was washing through the lower levels of the hotel somewhere right below his feet, where it was coming from, what was happening. The shock was paralysing, numbing, the destruction nature was ravaging too great.  
  
When it was over and Fernando was wading through the remains of the flood, knee-high water, debris, desperately crying men, women, children, nothing as it had been before, he was still in trance. And he was alone.  
  
The realisation that Dan had been out here was like slow, creeping horror that was so unreal that he was waiting to wake up from a nightmare.  
  
Only a part of his mind knew that this was real. It was hell – but it was real.  
  
When the numbing cold lost its grip on him, desperation set in. So deep and consuming that there weren’t enough tears to cry, that he could only stop when his body eventually broke down with exhaustion. In those moments all he wanted was to die.  
  
Hell lasted for twenty-seven hours and forty-three minutes. Then a voice called his name and penetrated the haze surrounding him, ignited a small light in the fog around him that made him raise his head. And when it happened a second time, clearer, nearer, and Dan was suddenly in front of him, battered, exhausted, dirty, the tiny light exploded in bright cascades and washed over him in another wave of shock.  
  
When they were clinging to each other there in the wake of the destruction that was too much for heart or mind to put into words, the tears were coming again, wracking his body and washing away the dirt on his face. Only this time it wasn’t because his life had been taken, but given.


	7. G

 Gummibears

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream._

* * *

Dan had to bite his lower lip to keep his grin in check as he watched Fernando who was rummaging through a pack of gummibears, a frown on his forehead.  
  
“You can just rearrange them? If it’s smaller it should fit,” Dan proposed but his lover was already shaking his head stubbornly.  
  
“No no no, I just need two… ah, one more. Hold still, you’re going to fuck it up.”  
  
Dan snorted and received a dark glare as his stomach twitched. “Okay. Sorry. Stop making me laugh then.”  
  
“I’m not doing anything to make you laugh,” Fernando started to protest but then drew a last red gummibear from the pack with a victorious, “Ha!”  
  
With a wide grin lighting up his face he placed the gummibear in line with the others on his lover’s stomach and chest as the peak of the heart he had formed, making it complete.  
  
“You’re adorable,” Dan shook his head with a smile. Fernando huffed and shifted closer for a kiss.  
  
“Shut up and let me eat that off you.”  
  
“Feel free not to let me stop you.”


	8. H

Hands

_ Every man has a place, in his heart there's a space, _   
_ and the world can't erase his fantasies. _

* * *

There was no doubt at all that what connected them most were Daniel Agger’s hands.  
  
Not surprising, really, since they were his working tools, the ones that were working magic on Liverpool player’s calves and thighs and occasionally backs, finding knots and tensions as if on instinct, kneading them with gentle pressure until you felt like floating.  
  
At least that’s how it was for Fernando.  
  
And since the young physio had started his job, it was getting increasingly hard for Fernando to attend the sessions – because that actually applied to every sense of the word as the striker had been forced to admit to himself in private mortification. So even though Daniel was an awesome person to be around, polite, even-tempered, always ready for a smile, a quiet joke or a serious conversation, Fernando found it hard to look him in the eye anymore.  
  
He rather lay on the table and had his own closed, biting the inside of his lip, and tried not to concentrate on the warm skilled hands massaging the insides of his thighs.  
  
“Are you alright?” Daniel’s quiet voice startled him into opening his eyes again, and he saw the young man watching him without stopping his ministrations. “You seem to get tenser by the week.”  
  
“No!” was the first thing that escaped Fernando before he realised it didn’t make a lot of sense to claim that. “I… I mean… I don’t know,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of his arm to hide his embarrassment, silently thanking the fact that he was lying on his front.  
  
Daniel was silent after that and Fernando tried to breathe deeply and evenly, but those hands were too near his very sensitive areas, and only about a minute later he was near crying in frustration.  
  
He imagined what would happen if he sat up after they were done and wrapped his towel around his waist without trying to hide what this did to him. If Daniel would be shocked, or surprised, embarrassed, indifferent or disgusted. And what would happen if he just forgot himself, walked those three little steps into Daniel’s personal space and crushed their lips together how he yearned to. If maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that his kiss would be returned, maybe with just as much force and pent-up frustration and desire. Maybe those wonderful, divine hands would find his sides, his hips, would lift him up onto the table and spread his legs to step between them, would slip under the towel and undo it. Maybe the tips of his fingers would find the opening between his cheeks and tease and press until they slid inside, and maybe his thumb would trace his lips and he could wrap them around it, sucking in tune to the force of the fingers inside him, and maybe he would shudder and whimper and beg as those fingertips would rub his spot and he would spread his legs a little wider, not caring if this made him look like the world’s biggest slut while he’d fumble with Daniel’s belt and…  
  
“Fernando.”  
  
He jerked almost violently, gasping for breath as he became aware where he was and what was happening.  
  
Fernando’s face was burning as his gaze fell on Daniel who was looking at him with the mildest frown of confusion and he immediately had to look away again.  
  
“We’re done. Are you really okay?”  
  
“Y-yes… yes,” Fernando stuttered, lowered his head, turned away and haphazardly wrapped the towel around his waist. “I… sorry…”  
  
There was a moment of silence where everything he could hear was his own heart rushing in his ears.  
  
“Fernando.”  
  
He turned almost on instinct. And realised that all it would take was three little steps.


	9. I

Ice Cube

_Your love is like ice on fire and the flame is getting higher,  _   
_and you know we're gonna surrender._

* * *

If anyone ever asked them what had brought them together, both Dan and Fernando would grin and say that it was ice cubes.  
  
It was ice cubes that brought them their first real conversation, non-sensible as it might have been. When they both sank into their barrels of ice water after one of their first matches, shivers racing over their skin, and a small but heartfelt Spanish curse fell from Fernando’s lips, Dan laughed out shortly and looked over at him.  
  
“Cold, right?” he asked, just enough for the blond to understand him. And Fernando wanted to answer, he really did, but the ice had seemingly frozen his brain and there wasn’t a single word in English coming to him. So all that he could offer was an agreeing “Uuughh,” shaken by a shudder. But it was enough for Dan to grin in understanding.  
  
It was ice cubes that brought them their first alone time together, weeks, almost months later. Stevie was throwing a team-party, and when they ran out of ice for the drinks and Dan offered to get some more, it was a reflex for Fernando to say he would come too.  
  
They started talking when they were alone and didn’t stop even when they had completed their task and the party had swallowed them up again, no matter the difficulties and misunderstandings and involuntarily funny moments the English language brought them.  
  
When they kissed for the first time all that was on their tongues was fruity sweetness of cocktails and numbing cold of ice cubes.  
  
So when their first anniversary came, marking one year of riding out any storm together, and they met in bed for a whole night of saying ‘thank you’, it didn’t really surprise either of when both brought along cubes of frozen water. They simply shook their heads and laughed and gladly took up the challenge of doing the importance of those ice cubes justice.


	10. J

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the warnings in the tags.

Jump

_Somewhere out there you lost yourself in your pain,_  
 _you dream of the end, to start all over again._

* * *

Dan had always known that Fernando was different. From the moment the door of their classroom had opened and their teacher had introduced the new student, shaking Dan out of his early morning daze in the process, he had known.  
  
First he had noticed the little things. The accent and the careful way he pronounced each word as if the language was a foreigner to him he had yet to become comfortable around. How shy he was, that he barely ever spoke if not asked a question, that he didn’t hold any gaze for much more than a few moments. That most of the time he politely declined any invitations to parties or get togethers he received in spades, unsurprisingly with a freaking beautiful face like that. Dan hadn’t been the only one to notice that right away.

But even though Fernando had always kept to himself and shied away from others, Dan had managed to draw smiles from him in class after the usually empty seat next to him had been filled by that new boy he soon found he couldn’t stop thinking about.  
  
And slowly but surely, Fernando had warmed to him. Had started talking to him outside of class, in his quiet, measured, careful way. Had reluctantly agreed to come with them to a club once, silently and unobtrusively staying close to Dan at all times. Had invited Dan to his small dorm room where he lived all alone because he didn’t have any family. And they had talked and smiled and grown closer, and Dan had fallen in love.  
  
He had always known that Fernando was different. And that the reason had to be in his past because he never, ever talked about it.  
  
Now he was standing on a rooftop, the wintery cold evening wind tearing at his clothes, but what froze him right to the bone and squeezed his heart in fear and horror was seeing Fernando there, right at the edge, a slender, shivering figure before a dark abyss.  
  
“Fernando. Nando… Please get away from there.”  
  
“Why should I?” The wind was ripping the quiet words from Fernando’s lips, making it hard to understand them. “I thought I could just… stop. Change countries, the colour of my hair, get a new haircut, you know? God, how naïve…”  
  
“No, no, it isn’t,” Dan shook his head, trying to stay calm, not to listen to the panic sitting in his chest. “Come on, you don’t really want to do this…”  
  
“Oh, I don’t? Funny. Doesn’t feel like it.”  
  
The dark-haired teenager bit his lip, forced himself to breathe.  
  
“I know there are things you want to do, to see. What… what about those cliffs in Cornwall you told me about, or Venice, or, or… see a match in Anfield. Don’t tell me you don’t want that anymore?”  
  
“But that really doesn’t matter, does it?”  
  
The almost thoughtful, wistful tone in Fernando’s voice brought sharp, hot tears to Dan’s eyes. He didn’t allow them to spill though, he had to concentrate, to find a way to…  
  
A short, dry laugh reached his ears.  
  
“I believed them when they told me I could be a whole new person, you know? New life, new identity and all…”  
  
“But you are! Nando, please, you…”  
  
“You don’t know a thing about me, Daniel!”  
  
The interruption was sharp, loud, and he winced as Fernando’s dark eyes bore into him.  
  
And that was the moment, wasn’t it? The one where he should reveal what the psychotherapist who had been Fernando’s contact person since he had come here had hinted at not even an hour ago after Fernando hadn’t shown up when they had wanted to meet and they had started to worry. The things that, however vague, had instilled wordless terror in him.  
  
Dan took a deep breath and willed himself not to tremble.  
  
“Yes, I do.”  
  
Fernando only looked at him with disbelieving eyes.  
  
“… you do.”  
  
His palms were getting clammy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t _suspected_ something. Like that one time they had accidentally fallen asleep on Fernando’s bed, Dan had later switched off the light half-asleep and had dozed off again with his arm loosely around the blond’s waist. And in the middle of the night Fernando had jerked awake, away from him, and when Dan had hurriedly switched on the light again there had been a kind of disoriented panic in his eyes Dan would never forget. Or the first time Dan had brought him off, so, so gently, so carefully, but Fernando couldn’t close his eyes even for a heartbeat.  
  
It probably was a miracle Fernando had let that happen at all.  
  
“She… Sarah, she told me, because we were worried. When we couldn’t find you. About…” Dan tried to explain, but the look in Fernando’s eyes made him fall silent.  
  
“You _know_? Oh, that’s beautiful”, Fernando laughed, a desperate sound. And what he said when he spoke on just made the nightmare complete. “But I think you still don’t understand. Unless she’s told you how they took me after my parents died in a car crash when we were on holiday, when I was five years old, how they fed me lies, beat me, locked me up for days, how they seek their sick little pleasures in raping children, passing them around and earning money with them, for endless fucking years, as if they’re nothing more than toys… Did she tell you how I cut open my wrists two years ago, finally, and only then got away from it? And I’ve been taken to this whole new country, and they said that I could build myself a whole new existence, go to school and be normal, and I believed them, until some of those guys came along today who still _recognized_ me, and guess what, they thought they could still…” Fernando’s voice was finally breaking, but it couldn’t add any tears to the ones that were already running down Dan’s face. “So do you want to see the bruises on my wrists, legs, hips, if you already know about that? Cause I think you still don’t have a fucking clue.”  
  
The wind was still tearing at them and Fernando was swaying a little, as if his strength was wavering, and Dan couldn’t breathe.  
  
Right then he would have taken that jump for Fernando if it would ever make any difference.  
  
As it was though, he drew in a shaking breath, took another step forward and slowly offered up his hand.  
  
“You’re right. I have no idea, how could I. Just… please don’t make me watch you kill yourself, or I might want to jump right after you.”  
  
His voice was trembling, and there was a soft, choked sound coming over Fernando’s lips. He didn’t move, but Dan didn’t lower his hand either.  
  
“Please, I’m begging here. I just want you to get away from that edge. I… I want to go to Anfield with you. I want to take you to Venice… I want to make you smile, because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want to be there for you. I…”  
  
 _Oh God, I’m so in love with you._  
  
“Fernando, please… please…”  
  
His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he could barely hear the wind howling around them. His outstretched hand was cold, almost numb, and he couldn’t look away from Fernando’s eyes, dark, broken orbs spilling over with tears, couldn’t even blink for fear of losing him in right that moment. Pleading silently because there simply were no more words.  
  
And then there was a sharp sob coming over Fernando’s lips, and Dan’s heart stopped as he thought he would take that one step forward after all.  
  
Until a warm hand was grasping his own, clinging, holding on, and he swore to himself he would never, ever let go.


	11. K

Kid

_You are as gentle as the morning dawn, torment can't wash away your grace._  
 _In search of angels with the Uist eyes, so many suns light up your face._

* * *

“Dan!”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
The wind was cold, and the dark-haired figure was grateful for the thick fur coat he could wrap around himself to fight the wind off at least a little.  
  
“The captives…”  
  
“Right.”  
  
The young clan leader nodded and followed the other man past a few stone huts where men and women of his clan were kneeling and dividing the spoils of their pre-winter raid. Dan knew how much it would hurt the other clan, but first and foremost he had to think about his own, how to get everyone through the winter. If that other clan would reach that goal he didn’t even allow himself to think about.  
  
Two men and one woman were kneeling in the thin grass on the ground, she with her gaze lowered fearfully, one of the men looking around in visible anger. But the second one – blond, tousled hair, freckles – didn’t look like he would immediately charge at Dan if he could, his gaze wandering around attentively and suspiciously. Dark eyes?  
  
Dan’s gaze stopped in bewilderment on the eyes of the young man. Vikings had fair eyes, both the light and dark haired, but this kind of dark brown he had never seen before. Still the clan leader pulled himself out of his thoughts rather quickly and let his gaze wander over the other two.  
  
“He can help out on the hunt, we still need supplies. Kjartan…” A young man from his clan raised his head and looked over at him questioningly. A friendly, gentle soul. “You take care of her,” Dan pointed towards the girl with a nod of his head and watched how a puzzled expression flickered over Kjartan’s face, but he nodded. And finally his gaze turned again to the dark-eyed, shivering boy – mostly because of cold and not fear, Dan could feel that. No wonder since he barely had clothes on him, nothing more than linen shirt and trousers, no warming fur like the rest. “Give him something to dress,” the clan leader ordered and then, without thinking, “Then bring him to me.”  
  
He didn’t care if anyone wondered about his words, just turned around and to the inspection of the captured weapons. All the while though this pair of dark eyes ghosted through his head, this colour he had never really seen before…  
  
Dan didn’t even know how much time had passed when he entered his hut, tired and worn out by the cold day that was fading by then. Carelessly he threw his thick fur coat to the side, shivered for a moment and knelt down next to the fireplace where newborn flames were flickering soon. Satisfied he turned around and flinched violently, his hand flying to his weapon, but in the next moment already he chided himself a fool.  
  
Entirely motionless the blond boy sat against the opposite wall, legs drawn to his torso, and only watched him with those attentive eyes.  
  
“Hell, tell me you’re sitting there,” Dan growled and relaxed again. He knew that the other probably didn’t understand him well, the dialects between their language sometimes varied even among neighbouring clans. And true enough, the dark-eyed boy didn’t answer, only looked at him, and Dan noticed that he did wear more than before and had stopped shivering.  
  
With a sigh Dan turned away, sat down on his fur bed and reached for bread and the piece of smoked meat he had been brought. And even though he had to be hungry, the boy hadn’t touched any of it – by hindsight it surprised Dan considerably, and even while he bit off a piece of bread his eyes found the boy again whose gaze still closely followed his every move. For a few moments he ate in silence, then raised his hand with the piece of bread in it.  
  
“Hungry?”  
  
This time he obviously understood him because he nodded slowly, and the tip of his tongue appeared for a moment to flicker over his lips. Without another word Dan threw the rest of the bread over and the boy took it immediately and muttered something that could have only been gratitude. It was the first time Dan heard his voice, and to his own surprise he felt the hint of a smile tugging on his own lips. And they both ate in silence and watched each other, not suspiciously but rather curious.  
  
When the blond slightly tilted his head to the side Dan spotted, to his surprise, a graze over his cheekbone that made him stand up as soon as he had swallowed his last bite. Instantly the boy froze, looked almost a little tense when Dan came over and knelt down in front of him. And of course he flinched back when Dan reached out, stopped for a moment, looked into the dark eyes again and then slowly placed his fingers below the boy’s chin and gently forced his head to the side to be able to look at the graze.  
  
Somehow it made him angry that one of his men must have assaulted the boy, probably hit him. But before he could decide what he wanted to do about it he heard the other’s voice, soft and questioning, and Dan looked at him but hadn’t understood a word.  
  
“I don’t know what you want, kid,” he answered and let go of him. Again they looked at each other, almost as if the other would come out any moment with an answer in a language they could understand. When it didn’t happen, Dan sighed again and returned to his bed.  
  
He didn’t say anything else, threw his fur over himself and asked himself for a moment if his not entirely voluntary guest would express any form of complaint about being ignored like this. Vaguely he wondered if he would try to free himself…  
  
But when he woke up the next morning and his gaze flew to the opposite wall, nothing like it had happened. The boy had simply curled up right where he had sat, his head bedded on his angled arm, and was sleeping soundly. Dan simply stared at him for a few minutes. And not even when the young clan leader left his hut some time later and spread his fur blanket over the boy did he wake up.  
  
But of course he was awake when Dan and the others returned that evening from their hunt and he retired to his hut. He had made sure that the boy had been given something to eat and would have been able to get some fresh air, and it seemed as if it couldn’t have been long since he had returned since his cheeks were flushed, his eyes awake and alert. Dan even thought to see a smile on his lips when he entered.  
  
“Hey kid,” he said and immediately received an answer, even though he still had no idea what the meaning of those foreign sounding words were. So Dan only raised his eyebrows, shrugged and laughed a little before coming over to him. He noticed with satisfaction that the dark-eyed boy didn’t flinch back from him when he had a look at that graze this time, and it already looked better than it had the day before. Dan nodded, pleased, and after he had returned to his fur bed, the whole previous evening repeats itself almost entirely. He started to eat, watched the boy, asked if he was hungry and eventually gave him something from his own meal. The boy chewed on a piece of meat silently, legs drawn to him, arms as soon as he was done wrapped around them again. Dan had already slipped beneath his fur blanket, but this time his gaze found the boy again who had made himself small, fingers buried in his plaid, and he returned his gaze, looked silently at Dan without straying.  
  
For a few seconds they only looked at each other again and then, Dan didn’t know either what got into him, he sighed and propped himself up. “Come here.”  
  
But the boy didn’t move, only his dark eyes were questioning and cautious, and because he obviously hadn’t understood Dan waved him over with a quick motion of his hand. “Now come on.”  
  
He still didn’t move, but then, a few seconds later, the blond stood up slowly, gazing at Dan in astonishment, and eventually he reached the fur bed and slowly knelt down next to it. Somehow Dan had the feeling that the boy still hadn’t really understood what he wanted from him, so he demonstratively moved over and lifted the fur blanket a little. The clan leader had seen that the boy still looked like he was cold, and so this idea had manifested in his mind – why exactly he did this he didn’t really know, especially for someone who, technically, was his captive.  
  
The dark eyes widened a little when they saw the slightly raised blanket, but he didn’t hesitate any longer, probably thinking that he would get this offer only once. So he slowly crawled under the large blanked that offered them both enough space and bedded his head unto the fur below, eyes lowered.  
  
Thoughtfully Dan watched him, saw how he already looked more comfortable, at the same time still tense though, as if he didn’t exactly know what had earned him this place… what exactly Dan wanted from him. But the clan leader was simply tired now, drew the blanket up over his shoulders and gave the boy an encouraging, calming smile, and when the blond returned it, albeit a little cautiously, Dan closed his eyes.  
  
He woke up in the middle of the night without knowing why because it was still pitch dark, he wasn’t cold and neither plagued by hunger… confused Dan turned to his side and saw the pale contours of a face, delicately chiselled features, more relaxed now, but the dark eyes were open. At first he was surprised, lay still, looked at the boy who returned his gaze, and Dan asked himself if he had slept yet at all. He wanted to ask, already opened his mouth, but no sound made it over his lips. Instead his eyes found the graze again, dark against the skin, and Dan couldn’t help reaching out and gently stroking his thumb over it.  
  
In those dark, faintly shining eyes he could read surprise, and the boy muttered something, Dan didn’t understand it, only saw the parted lips, a soft sigh in his ears, and then he didn’t care if he took the boy by surprise, drew him close and pressed their lips together.  
  
Dan didn’t even really know why he was doing this, simply gave in to an inner drive that let him deepen the kiss that the blond didn’t even try to resist, and Dan didn’t know if he should have been surprised, about the boy, about himself, about what he was doing there, but then he felt a cool hand on his skin, and it puzzled him for a short moment because that face and those lips were so warm…  
  
He didn’t even shiver when they were both eventually naked and he slowly slid over the boy’s body, and later he didn’t even know anymore if the blond spread his legs voluntarily or if he helped him along. And in that moment he didn’t care that the body underneath his wasn’t the one of a woman, and he didn’t want to stop either, even less when the boy omitted a sudden sound, half aroused, and he didn’t try to struggle, didn’t even show signs of it, and soon Dan couldn’t restrain himself anymore, not even when he heard the short outcry of the boy who was soon clinging to him though, skin gleaming with sweat. His fingernails left red half moons on Dan’s shoulder, and his choked whimpers burned themselves deeply into the memory of the young clan leader.  
  
Heat… the boy’s skin was so warm, soft, salty sweet, and Dan simply wanted to bury his face against the neck, to breath in deep, by now panting breaths, but sooner than he would have liked it violent shudders ran through the slender, gleaming body, a pained-ecstatic whimper, twitching muscles, and Dan followed him without hesitation, let himself fall and lost himself in the boy’s warmth.  
  
What had just happened hit Dan like a hammer and he straightened up with a jolt as soon as his strength and senses had returned to him. The boy gasped in surprise, his brow furrowed, and Dan felt a brief surge of dread and alarm rushing through him.  
  
“Did I hurt you?” he wanted to know, drew a few sweaty blond strands of hair back, untangled himself from the boy and felt between his legs. A surprised sound escaped the blond’s lips, half questioning words, then he tilted his head to the side, evading his gaze, but he didn’t struggle and Dan thought to see a soft blush on his cheeks. When he withdrew his fingers there was no blood on them, and he breathed out in relief.  
  
Suddenly he felt really tired, exhausted even, and let himself sink back down onto the bed next to the blond. Dan hoped that he hadn’t surprised, frightened him too much, but he’d just _had_ to… With a sigh he looked over at the boy again whose cheeks were still glowing with a faint blush. He had his gaze lowered and only looked at him when Dan gently raised his head with one hand under his chin. He was still so warm…  
  
For some time they only looked at each other, wordless, but eventually the boy’s eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep only a moment later. Dan continued to watch him, and only when he woke up the next morning did he realise that he must have fallen asleep too.  
  
The weak light of dawn filtered through the cracks onto them, and the young clan leader felt comfortably tired, content and rested at the same time. With a sigh he turned around, saw the mop of blond hair and the naked shoulders of the boy next to him, and he smiled, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching out with one hand to draw it over the strands. They were incredibly soft under his fingers, as if someone had brushed them.  
  
The boy didn’t move, seemed to still be asleep, but when Dan’s fingertips fleetingly brushed his cheek, the clan leader flinched back. He had already been warm the day before, but now… now he was burning. With a shocked start Dan took the boy by the shoulders, turned him onto his back and felt for his cheek, his forehead, hot, sweaty…  
  
“Kid? Wake up, come on…”  
  
A soft groan, he blinked, looked at Dan through half opened eyes, a fevery gaze, Dan didn’t even know if he recognised him, then his eyes fell shut again, and even when he shook the boy a little he couldn’t bring him to open them again. Only soft, mumbled words.  
  
“What… what’s going on with you? Come on, wake up again…”  
  
But the boy didn’t react, and Dan only heard his slow, heavy and much too loud breathing, and he picked himself up, hastily threw on some clothes and stumbled outside, the only thing he could think of was to get her.  
  
The oldest woman in his clan had taken care of births, deaths and sicknesses for years, decades even, and her bright eyes were worried when she straightened after her examination of the boy.  
  
“What? What’s wrong with him?” Dan, who was kneeling at the head of the bed and had watched every one of her movements, asked.  
  
“I have no idea how long he was up and about out there in this cold and without warm clothes,” she answered and shook her head with a dark expression. “He’s no member of the clan you were at yesterday either, Kjartan said that the girl had told him. Who knows where he comes from, how long he walked around like that. No wonder something like this happens then.”  
  
“And now?” Dan wanted to know, his thoughts whirling. The boy didn’t even belong to the other clan? “What’s going on with him, is he going to be alright?”  
  
She only shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to dab the sweat of the boy’s face with a piece of woollen cloth, and then wrap him up tightly in the blanket.  
  
“Who knows. If you want him to live, get another blanket or two, keep him warm even if he tries to free himself. See to it that he drinks regularly or he’ll dry up. He doesn’t look very strong, more as if he ran around hungry and cold for too long. Some hot broth would maybe do him good, but he probably won’t be able to keep it down until the worst is over.”  
  
He had felt himself paling a little more at each of her words.  
  
“And when will that be?” Dan asked softly, met her serious gaze questioningly.  
  
“Either way,” she answered eventually, “tomorrow morning you’ll probably know.”  
  
She was gone before he had the chance to say anything else, he only stared after her, and only one single thought jumped around in his head when he heard the boy’s soft whimper and looked down at him.  
  
 _No, you’re not going to die, you’re not going to die, do you hear me?!_  
  
How could that even be, so suddenly? Or maybe it hadn’t come suddenly at all… the cold hands, warm skin, flushed cheeks… Dan swore softly and reached out to carefully touch the kid’s temple.  
  
Even the night before he hadn’t noticed that something hadn’t been right. For a short moment Dan asked himself why this scared him so much at all, why the thought got to him like this that the boy could die. Because he evoked the unmistakable instinct in him to protect him? Because of his large dark eyes, the youthful features, his soft skin? Because he… had shared his body with him?  
  
Another whimper, a soft groan ripped him out of his thoughts, the boy tried to free himself of the blanket, but Dan stopped him and then hastened outside to get more furs.  
  
Restlessly he tossed and turned, now and again mumbled some incomprehensible words, wanted to struggle free, barely drank and burned up more and more. Dan sat next to him helplessly, could only wipe the sweat from his face, and when the sun set and the boy felt even hotter than that morning, his worry was joined by desperation. The boy lay still now, too exhausted to fight the heavy blankets, only breathing heavily, and Dan couldn’t bear it anymore.  
  
Outside the air was ice cold, burned in his lungs, and still he ran until he had reached the stream, came to a halt to lean against a tree and breathed in deep gulps of air. Dan didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was afraid that the boy was going to stop breathing any moment. He knew that there wasn’t anything else he could do to help him, that his body had to fight that battle alone, but he didn’t want him to die. Patiently the tree bore the brunt of his desperate fury, the helpless punches that only made the skin over the knuckles of the young clan leader break open.  
  
He didn’t _want_ him to die. He _didn’t want it_.  
  
And the burning in his eyes only stopped when darkness had fallen.  
  
Finally, when Dan entered the hut again and to his relief still heard the heavy breathing, he had found the calm he had lacked all day, took off his fur coat and slipped beneath the blanket. When Dan drew the blond’s body into his arms he didn’t struggle, doesn’t even really react, still burning, trembling, sweaty.  
  
“No… no, damn it, you’re not going to die!” Dan muttered determinedly, pressed his eyes close and the boy’s body against his. A soft murmur, half whimpered, and Dan had the feeling that the boy was burying the face in the crook of his neck. And the young clan leader slowly breathed out, caressed the blond hair and couldn’t do anything but hope, all through the night, didn’t find one minute of actual sleep. Only the boy, so Dan imagined, started to breathe a little easier with time, and maybe, maybe he was even sleeping a little.  
  
Only when morning had come Dan’s eyes drifted shut and he dozed, the heated body in his arms. But when it eventually started to shift he jerked awake again instantly and looked down at the blond. And his heart jumped in his chest because the dark eyes were half open and he returned the gaze, tired, exhausted, but in the warm brown there was awareness again, recognition, and Dan couldn’t contain the relieved laugh coming over his lips.  
  
“Hey kid… there you are again…”  
  
He drew a few still sweaty blond strands of hair back, and the boy mumbled something and smiled, making Dan pause. “What?”  
  
The smile on the boy’s lips widened and he slowly raised a still slightly shaky hand to lay it on Dan’s chest.  
  
“Dan?”  
  
The clan leader’s eyes widened, then he smiled, practically beamed, and the boy nodded, obviously pleased, smiled as well and then laid his hand onto his own chest.  
  
“Fernando.”  
  
Still completely taken by surprise Dan watched him, repeated the word softly, murmuring, finally a name to that face that hadn’t let him out of its spell for two days now.  
  
Fernando…  
  
“You… you’re better,” Dan finally managed to get out, so incredibly relieved, and when he placed his hand on Fernando’s cheek it was still warm, but not hot anymore. “You’re going to be alright… you have to be thirsty and… I’m going to get some broth.”  
  
And already he wanted to get to his feet, but the boy hastened to put a hand on his arm, held him back with a small sound, and Dan looked back at him in surprise. Those cheeks were of a faint red colour once more, but when Fernando momentarily lowered his eyes and then drew Dan towards him to touch his lips fleetingly and gently with his own, Dan didn’t think he needed to worry about it at all.


	12. L

Love

_You are the best one of the best ones, we all look like we feel._   
_You have stolen my heart._

* * *

“… what?”  
  
Dan sighed and tried not to let that look in Fernando’s eyes affect him.  
  
“I love you. I’m madly in love with you, I don’t know any other way to make it clearer.”  
  
“What?!” Fernando only asked again, and this time his voice slipped higher a notch or two. “No! You can’t! You’re not sticking to the rules!”  
  
Dan threw his hands into the air. “Yeah. So what. I’m breaking the rules. Sex with you is fucking fantastic, but I want – ow!” he interrupted himself and took a protective step back after Fernando had punched his shoulder.  
  
Not that it did him any good. Fernando only followed him and punched his chest again. And again.  
  
“Don’t say it! What are you thinking?! We’re footballers, and we’re having sex, that’s already complicated enough!”  
  
“So? I don’t see how it can get – Fernando, stop! – any more complicated. We can just as well hold hands while we’re not having sex.”  
  
“Dan, aargh! Stop!”  
  
What Dan did instead was stifle any further protest by pressing his lips to Fernando’s, ignoring the indignant sound persistently until the lips under his became pliant. Then he smiled.  
  
“Admit it. You think the rules suck.”  
  
“Shut up,” Fernando huffed and punched him again. “This is all your fault!”  
  
Dan didn’t even have the chance to answer. He was too busy having the life kissed out of him.


	13. M

Mornings

  _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

* * *

Fernando hated mornings. He hated having to leave his bed, his cocoon of warmth and comfort, hated how it took him ages to feel even half awake.  
  
Since he knew Dan, his mornings had improved tenfold. Because now he was woken with gentle words instead of a harsh alarm, now there was a cup of coffee waiting for him when he dragged himself to the kitchen, now there were gentle fingers drawn through his hair and an affectionate kiss placed on his temple.  
  
And they never failed to draw an early morning smile from him, as effectively as nothing else had ever before.


	14. N

Nights

_You came to me like the ways of children, simple as breathing, easy as air._  
_Now the years hold no fears, like the wind they pass over._  
_Loved, forgiven, washed, saved._

* * *

Soft, calm sounds permeated the silence of the living room and filled it with warmth and cosiness. The soft light of a small lamp was the only illumination, sparse, but it would have taken away some of the appeal of the setting had it been brighter and more glaring. The large window revealed the stars dotting the blue-black velvet night sky.  
  
Carefully Dan stretched his legs a little more and tried to find a slightly more comfortable position, but immediately the arms around his torso tightened, almost instinctively as if they wanted to keep him from standing up. Even though right now it was the farthest thing from his mind. Without averting his gaze from his book he stopped moving and relaxed into the comfortable couch cushions again.  
  
The soft blond strands of hair gently brushed his skin when Fernando sighed softly and, without opening his eyes, nestled his face deeper into the crook of Dan’s neck to soak up the long missed scent of his friend.  
  
Dan smiled.  
  
The song was over and for a few short moments it was quiet before the repeat function made it float around the room once again.  
  
The Dane held his book only with one hand, the other one was lying on Fernando’s back, and so it wasn’t easy to turn the just read page while moving as little as possible. Back when they had still read together Fernando had taken over turning the pages, but some time ago he had given it up to doze peacefully, his body nestled against the one of his lover, arms wrapped around his upper body, their legs entwined. And now Dan had to turn his page with a complicated motion of his thumb if he wanted to read on.  
  
Nights like these were wonderful.  
  
The warmth of the so familiar body lying half next to and half on him, the calm rise and fall of his chest, the warm breath comfortingly caressing his neck – it were those things that, if you had to miss them, made days turn into years.  
  
His fingertips drew gentle, tiny circles on Fernando’s back while he was reading: _To come home to where you’re loved and needed is the most beautiful thing imaginable._  
  
Dan closed the book and let it slide from his hand to the floor. His arms closed around his lover’s body and he buried his face in the blond hair, enjoyed the familiar scent, gently lay his hand onto the other’s head and carefully wrapped his fingers into Fernando’s hair, glad to be able to do this again. Over his lips came, sung softly, the last few lines of the song, almost whispered, so near Fernando’s ear that it sent a gentle shudder down his back.  
  
_“All the ways of my life I’d rather be with you, there’s no way without you…”_  
  
With a smile Fernando raised his head, blinked and sleepily looked Dan into the eyes. “I missed you,” he muttered.  
  
Dan kissed him on the forehead, then on his lips in a gentle, fleeting touch before Fernando nuzzled his head against Dan’s neck again who in turn lay his cheek against the soft strands of blond hair. They both closed their eyes and forgot everything but the sense of the other’s presence.  
  
Dan was happy.  
  
_Nights like these truly are wonderful._


	15. O

Ordeal

_Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone_  
_I hear you call my name and it feels like home._

* * *

They flew to northern Spain for the wedding of one of Fernando’s oldest friends, a small town right on the coast, the spring sun glittering warmly on the blue surface of the Atlantic Ocean. The church was old and small, the ceremony beautiful, and yet neither of them could really enjoy it.  
  
Because people were looking. Some curious, some furtive, some uncomfortable and some with open contempt.  
  
Dan didn’t really care, because he could just shrug them all off. But he knew that for Fernando, it wasn’t that easy. Could feel it in the way the hand inside his own clenched tightly all through the ceremony, how unusually quiet he was during the festivities, how his smile was shy and his eyes insecure. Because every time he came back to the so catholic land of his birth, every time he sat inside a church, the thought was back that in the eyes of his religion, of so many people sharing it, simply loving each other made them sinners. And Dan could see how heavily it sat on his shoulders and weighed them down.  
  
That night in their hotel room he experimentally drew his hand over the nape of Fernando’s neck and his sides, unsure if it was exactly what his lover needed or if it was the farthest thing from his mind. When Fernando closed his eyes and sighed somewhere between pained and relieved, he knew it was the former.  
  
They didn’t say even a single word as they made love, holding on to each other as Fernando sat in Dan’s lap, legs wrapped around him, clinging tightly enough to leave marks, faces buried in each other’s necks and hair.  
  
They lay together afterwards, wrapped around each other but neither of them asleep, and finally, finally the silence was broken by Fernando’s quiet question that encompassed his whole ordeal, everything that had prevented him from honestly smiling that day.  
  
“Do you believe in God?”  
  
Dan drew his fingers through Fernando’s hair, then looked at him to study his clear dark eyes before tilting his head and moulding their lips together in a soft kiss bursting with love. When he eventually drew back and his hand was cupping Fernando’s face, thumb caressing his cheekbone, he answered.  
  
“I believe in us.”  
  
Fernando simply looked at him and let out a shaky breath that had been lodged in his throat.  
  
And they silently agreed that that was enough.  
  
It was everything.


	16. P

Parents

_I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment._  
_I am a wonderkind._

* * *

It was the low, calm tune of a nonsensical child song that was filling the warm morning air of the bedroom, along with soft cooing. The baby’s small body was resting against Dan’s chest, both of them facing the bed across the room, and he never averted his gaze even while keeping the little girl entertained simply with his hands and the tune.  
  
“Ssh,” Dan whispered when she reached for his finger and squealed in delight and gently kissed the soft, thin wisps of hair on her head, unwaveringly watching Fernando’s peaceful features. “Let papá sleep just a little longer, hm?”  
  
She answered with a softly gurgling sound and tugged on his finger while Fernando slept on and Dan began to hum again, a smile on his face.


	17. Q

Quiet 

_Here is true peace, here my heart knows calm,_   
_safe in your soul, bathed in your sighs._

* * *

Sometimes, despite their often hectic schedules, they still had them. Mornings where everything was quiet and warm, when the world outside was still asleep. When sunbeams would fall on the white sheets of the rumpled bed, or rain would patter against the glass of the window, when sleep released them slowly and gently from its hold instead of the harsh sounds of the alarm startling them awake.

Then they would stay just where they were, sometimes blink the sleep in their eyes away to watch the other, sometimes keep them closed and just let their hands rest on sleep-warm skin, hold each other and just breathe.  
  
Sometimes they would talk, about whatever there was on their minds, conversations that could remain quiet, or be light of heart, when they would touch and laugh and hug just for the sake of it.  
  
Sometimes they said nothing at all. They would draw shapes on each other’s skin with their fingertips, or trace the marks they had left, both the visible and the invisible. They would count freckles or lashes, or memorise the shape of the other’s hand or nose or spine or hip.  
  
One of these mornings, when everything was quiet and familiarly warm and no word between them had yet greeted the day, Fernando watched as Dan took his hand in both of his own and let his fingertips slowly explore each patch of skin, each nail and knuckle and joint and line. And for some reason Fernando was struck by the thought of how he hadn’t been in Dan’s life yet when he had smiled for the first time. Neither for the moment he had taken his first step, or spoken his first word. He hadn’t been there when Dan had taken his first hits or his first triumphs, and his heart stung a little at the thought of how he had missed his first time falling in love, his very first kiss.  
  
Then Dan brought his hand up to place a soft, lingering kiss to each of his knuckles, and Fernando remembered that he might have missed years of Dan’s life, experiences that had formed him and had made him who he was today – but that, in the end, it wasn’t that bad.  
  
Because even when he hadn’t been there, he had always just been on his way to him.


	18. R

Red

_And so I run now to the things they say could restore me, restore life the way it should be._  
_I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down._

* * *

For the longest time, Fernando couldn’t look at himself when he was wearing blue.  
  
He couldn’t admit it to anyone else, of course not. And maybe he’d just been blind. Maybe he should have known. But there was no use crying over spilt milk, he’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. But when he did, all that he felt was numb.  
  
Only when the feeling of unravelling at the seams, of disappearing from the face of the earth, of simply not existing anymore got too much, he took out the shirt from the darkest corners of his closet, and wrapped himself up in it. The vibrant red and the white 5 on the back the only thing that filled his heart with… life.  
  
And sometimes when he wore it, he took out a knife and cut open his palm.  
  
It’s not that bad anymore today. His eyes have gotten used to the blue, and he thinks it doesn’t look that bad on him anymore. He got better.  
  
He still has that shirt in his closet, and he still takes it out sometimes. Remembers the lines the knife drew on his skin.  
  
Relieved when he remembers that, after all, he still bleeds red.


	19. S

Shattered 

_I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing,_  
_just praying to a god that I don't believe in._

* * *

Shards of a mirror, red around the edges. Too many splinters missing, they don’t fit anymore.  
  
_What is it?_  
  
A bizarre web of cracks. Red smears on hands.  
  
Bathroom. The shower over there… for a moment water pelts down, steams up the glass, a luxurious moan.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
Doubt…  
  
Lost faith, uncertainty, distance, scepticism, coolness, loss, abandonment, disappointment.  
  
Doubt.  
  
A raw web of splinters on the ground. All broken. In the mirror… a hole. Nothing but wall, framed by a few jags.  
  
Slippery hands. Sweat and blood. A few tears.  
  
_Are you serious?_  
  
No kindness. No reaction. No smile.  
  
_Do you really think…?_  
  
Was there ever a picture? Something that fit? A sense?  
  
Must have broken with the mirror. Nothing left. Only a few shards.  
  
No sense anymore.  
  
_Guess I have to._  
  
Has never been broken. Cracked maybe. Just a tiny bit. Now and then, a long time ago. Not for a long time.  
  
But never broken.  
  
Never broken.  
  
Never, never, never, never…  
  
There used to be sense. Has always been there.  
  
_But I…_  
  
Cuts in those hands. In the shower water pelts down again. Soft humming this time. Often heard. Laughter.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
Trembling, choked sobs.  
  
Outside the sun passes. Towards the horizon. Unnoticed.  
  
The shards still don’t fit. Red around the edges. Don’t fit. Won’t ever again.  
  
Never, ever again.


	20. T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags and warnings. Everyone in this is an _awful_ little shit. ~~But it was fun to write.~~

Truth

_You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you, you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you._   
_My whole existence is flawed - you get me closer to God._

* * *

“Truth or Dare, Torres?”  
  
Fernando slowly raised his head from where he was lying on one of the divans, finding that the neck of the bottle was pointing straight at him, and looked over at Xabi Alonso who had voiced the question.  
  
“Dare,” he said and watched how a smile that he really didn’t like spread on the other’s lips, too calculating, too satisfied, too smug. A round of cackling and hooting went through the group of teenagers scattered in a circle across the room, but Fernando just held Xabi’s gaze and ignored them. He’d always been able to deal with the dares thrown his way, so whatever.  
  
It wasn’t exactly like they did this because they  _liked_  each other. No, in fact there were a few major assholes in the group of people that was meeting here regularly as far as Fernando was concerned. But, well. They  _were_  the male elite of New York’s Upper East Side youth, representatives of different schools, and in a subtle but constant rat race. On top of that they were rich, they had it all, and they were bored out of their minds. So when together and playing their little power games they got up to outrageous things they would, if ever asked, deny with innocent smiles to their parents, but the dynamics in effect here weren’t something adults would ever understand. It was a ruthless challenge. Truths were to be answered with nothing but the truth, dares would be acted out no matter what. Because woe betide the first one who would ever fail.  
  
“Very well,” Xabi said slowly and lazily drew on his cigarette, holding Fernando’s gaze while he blew out the smoke. “I dare you to let Agger fuck you.”  
  
The instant the words had left his mouth, there was jeering, leering and laughter all over the place, only the two parties it concerned reacted with a simultaneous, indignant “What?!”  
  
Instinctively Fernando looked over to where Daniel Agger was sitting and was met with a look of loathing that was more than likely mirrored on his own face, and quickly redirected his scowl at Alonso who looked, unsurprisingly, completely unfazed.  
  
He had tried not to make it too obvious how much he couldn’t stand the teenager with the freckles and the tattoos, a feeling that seemed pretty mutual, for fear of something exactly like this. It was impossible to hide a certain  _dislike_  though, but he had hoped it didn’t look deeper than with Terry or Skrtel or Ashley Cole.  
  
Trust Xabi Alonso to ruin this.  
  
“God, you couldn’t come up with anything more inventive?” Fernando tried to play this down, but inside he was seething and it probably showed.  
  
“Don’t be such a princess,” Lampard snorted and Stevie laughed.  
  
“Yeah, where’s the problem? You went and sucked off Ronaldo without complaints when we dared you to.”  
  
“Yeah, but he’s a slut and fucking easy.”  
  
“Pot calling the cattle black…” the Portuguese whistled and grinned when Fernando glared at him.  
  
“Besides, Danny boy here is fucking easy too,” Stevie concluded with a shrug at which Daniel, who had regained his composure by now, drawled, “What makes you think I’d even want to touch that?”  
  
There was a collective snort but it was Terry who answered with a leer. “Tell me you’d say no to that face and I’d call you a liar.”  
  
“You’re a fucking pervert, Terry,” Fernando sneered but then looked at Xabi again to see if the challenge was actually standing. His gaze was returned with a soft but devious grin curling around the corners of his mouth.  
  
“Come on, Torres. I dare you.”  
  
Fernando clenched his fists and dug his nails so hard into his palms it hurt. For once the room was silent, awaiting his move even though it wasn’t like he really had a choice. He  _couldn’t_  back down from a dare, no matter how much he wanted to. And neither could Daniel, really.  
  
So in the end Fernando clenched his teeth, got up and drew his shirt over his head among the whistles and hoots of the others. He didn’t pause at his jeans or his black boxer briefs, and only when he was standing naked before his divan did he look over at Daniel again.  
  
“Get the fuck up, I haven’t got all night.”  
  
Even though the others snickered, Daniel looked completely unimpressed as he finally got to his feet and tugged his own shirt over his head and undid his belt before raising his hand to catch first a condom package and then a small tube of lube Vidic had thrown him with a grin.  
  
Fernando made a softly disgusted sound and turned away, kneeling on the divan with its backrest as leverage for his hands. He didn’t have to wait long.  
  
“Like this? Really?” Daniel drawled behind him and Fernando’s hands tightened around the backrest.  
  
“What, think I’m gonna do it looking into your  _face_?”  
  
He could hear Sergio, Miki and Cris laughing while Daniel only shrugged.  
  
“Suit yourself.”  
  
A hand on his back applied pressure and forced his upper body further down, and Fernando only bit his lower lip, rested his forehead on his forearm and forced himself to relax. He was determined to get through this with as little fuss as possible, let that asshole come and be done with it. So he only rolled his eyes when two lube-cold fingers pressed into his entrance.  
  
“Oh my God, will you get on with it? What do you think I am, a virgin?”  
  
“Nope,” Daniel answered nonchalantly next to his ear but retrieved his fingers and replaced them with his cock, sliding into him with a measured but fluid stroke that actually made Fernando gasp for breath as he discovered that Daniel was after all a little bigger than he had expected. “I think you’re a whore.”  
  
“Oh burn,” Cole laughed but Fernando chose to ignore it and only sighed as if bored. Daniel gripped his hips and drew back until only the head was still inside before sliding back in, repeating the move a few times in an unhurried pace, and Fernando relaxed and just let him do whatever he wanted, didn’t even really react when he hit the bundle of nerves that made his insides tingle and his muscles tighten a little. Not even the second or third time had him worried. But then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the thrusts gained speed, purpose, force, and  _every single fucking one_  nailed his prostate.  
  
Fernando clamped his eyes tightly shut, bit down hard on his lower lip and tried to shift, but the hands on his hips were holding him firmly in place and gave him no chance of getting away. So he shuddered and tried to hold it together but found that it was damn well impossible. Not only was the size and length, as he loathed to admit, fucking perfect, but the pace and intensity of the thrusts, the angle, the little flicks of his hips eventually had him shaking as if on drugs, and Fernando felt himself flush in embarrassment as he finally couldn’t hold in that moan anymore that had been lodged in his throat and he realised that he couldn’t adhere to that promise he had made himself.  
  
 _Fuck you, Daniel Agger!_  
  
It got worse when he felt lips descending on the juncture of his throat and shoulder, biting, sucking, and Fernando tried to shake him off, but his “No!” was unsteady and ended in a whimper that felt a lot like humiliation. His body was finally forced into orgasm and submitted, shuddering silently as Fernando bit his lip so hard that the copper taste of blood appeared on his tongue and he spilled himself into Daniel’s hand that had found its way around their bodies.  
  
He panted and tried to regain the control over his body that had been taken from him, wanting to raise himself up on his shaky legs as soon as he felt Daniel withdrawing, but before he really knew what was happening, he was being flipped over onto his back and one of his legs hooked over Daniel’s shoulder. Fernando blinked in confusion until he saw Daniel stroking his still very hard erection, slicking himself back up with Fernando’s release.  
  
He started struggling immediately.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?? I’m done!”  
  
“I’m not,” Daniel simply stated and had no trouble at all putting an end to Fernando’s sluggish, wobbly attempts at escape and holding him down.  
  
“No, stop it, you fucking –”  
  
“Shut up and take it, Torres.”  
  
And as much as he wanted to answer, he was rendered incapable as Daniel thrust back into his still over-sensitive entrance and forced a strangled sound from him, and Fernando wanted to spit out curses, but for a moment their eyes locked and it all got stuck in his throat at the raw intensity.  
  
He didn’t get time to breathe or adjust or prepare but was immediately assaulted again with those powerful, precise thrusts that had pushed him over the edge that first time, and his over-stimulated nerves were responding instantly, wracking his body and robbing him of rational thinking. He was hard again in a matter of moments.  
  
Fernando had long since given up trying to be quiet, he could only squeeze his eyes shut and listen to the almost delirious sounds that were drawn from him, the rhythm with which he was fucked wild and steady at the same time, sharp, still ridiculously precise stabs, and somewhere in the back of his mind it dawned on him that no one had ever made him lose control like that before.  
  
By then he was too far gone though to hate the fact that it was all because of  _Daniel Agger_. He came again with a choked sob and was fucked right through his orgasm until it almost hurt and he shook his head and weakly tried to push Daniel off. Relief flooded him when he actually, amazingly felt the other boy retreat, and he slumped back in exhaustion, blinking through blurred vision. And he could only watch as Daniel ripped the condom off, stroke himself two, three times and finally came right onto Fernando’s already stained stomach.  
  
The blond teenager shuddered and turned his face away in utter mortification.  
  
It was silent after that, only soft, panted breaths echoing in the humid air, and Fernando closed his legs and tried to drag himself up into a sitting position just as he was hit with a towel right in his face. When he had drawn it off and his gaze inevitably fell onto the others, he saw that he and Daniel weren’t the only ones that had gotten off and that the Dane, standing with his back to him, was just pulling his jeans back up over his hips.  
  
Xabi was the first to break the silence, and there was that smile again that sent a shudder down Fernando’s spine.  
  
“Well done, Niño.”  
  
As if on cue the others started talking again almost simultaneously, but Fernando ignored them and forced his still sluggish hands into cleaning himself up and putting some clothes back on while the game went on around him, Daniel obviously having taken his place in coming up with the next challenge. And he was glad about the brief respite, about sinking back down onto his divan and giving his body time to get down from the adrenaline high, about being ignored and entertaining the hope that this was over and done with and no one would mention it again.  
  
Only that about ten minutes later, the bottleneck was tauntingly pointing at him again, and Skrtel’s measuring grin wasn’t better in any way.  
  
“Truth or Dare, Torres?”  
  
For a moment Fernando wished he were invisible. And he knew that he couldn’t take another dare right now, so there was only one other possibility left for him that he forced out, voice dry and parched.  
  
“Truth.”  
  
He wondered if he had made a mistake when he saw Daniel leaning over from where he was sitting again next to Martin and muttering something to him, and the grin on the his face widened.  
  
“So, Torres… give us the truth. Was this the best fuck you ever had?”  
  
Fernando closed his eyes.  
  
There were no words for how much he hated Daniel Agger.  
  
“Yes.”


	21. U

Unexpected

_So suddenly I found you - to think you were near all the time,_  
_I've often been around you, I don't know how I could have been so blind._  
_Suddenly my world is new, suddenly there's only you._

* * *

When Dan and Fernando met, they were babies on a blanket in the living room of Fernando’s parents. Born only a few days apart, they had unsurprisingly sparked an instant connection between their neighbouring parents who quickly developed a friendship that came with having a lot of things in common as well as living as close to each other as you can. And Dan and Fernando grew up sharing the same crawler blankets, babbling to each other in languages only they could understand, eating strawberries off the same plate, playing Cowboys and Indians in their backyards, learning to ride their bikes together, scraping their knees simultaneously, climbing trees, getting in trouble, backing each other no matter what, and neither of them would hesitate for even a heartbeat with the answer to the question who their best friend in the whole world was.  
  
Sixteen years after that meeting on the blanket, the Torres and Agger households met up at the first weekend of summer holidays for a barbecue in the latter’s garden, spirits high, fathers setting up the grill, mothers preparing salads, children, the younger batch containing four of them, chattering away at the tables.  
  
Dan had taken Fernando upstairs to his room with the intention of making him have a quick listen to the brand new Muse album, unable to wipe the wide grin off his face that had seemingly taken up more or less permanent residence there since his best friend had come back from the exchange program just the day before.  
  
“Damn, everything really is still the same here,” Fernando remarked behind him while they sprinted the familiar way up the stairs and Dan snorted.  
  
“Nah, I just changed it all back just for you.”  
  
A light shove from behind pushed him right into his room and he laughed.  
  
“Come on, in three months? Did you expect mum to get into renovation frenzy when you’re not around?”  
  
“Shut up. Three months is long, alright?”  
  
“Weren’t you the one who said time just flew by?” Dan asked, already fumbling with the CD and his stereo. When he didn’t get an answer for a few seconds he turned his head and discovered Fernando standing in front of his pinboard, eyes resting on the pictures messily attached to it. Dan left the stereo without pushing play and stepped up to his friend, wrapped his left arm around shoulder and chest from behind, and settled his chin on Fernando’s shoulder to be able to take up the same point of view.  
  
Various pictures were taking up the space as fond reminders of the past, one of Dan and his siblings, one of his parents, one of him and his group of closest friends, one of himself jumping almost horizontally as a black silhouette before a golden ocean sunset, one of him and Fernando looking into the camera, heads together, arms around each other’s necks, a crystal clear mountain lake in the background, taken two years ago when Fernando had accompanied them on a family holiday in Norway. Dan knew it was that one his friend’s eyes were resting on.  
  
“It’s still fucking good to be back home,” Fernando finally answered.  
  
“So your Spanish roots didn’t suddenly recognise Madrid as their home?”  
  
“Are you kidding? I’m home right here.”  
  
As he said it, Fernando turned his head around to look at Dan. The tips of their noses bumped, their gazes locked, and both of them froze.  
  
Fernando’s eyes, dark and impossibly wide, filled Dan’s vision, and his heart was jumping up to his throat and his head was empty, and he had no idea at all how it happened or who the one was to close the breadth of distance between them, but it did and their lips were touching. He couldn’t really breathe, focussed solely on the soft, unmoving touch of lips on his as if all other senses had ceased to function, so he didn’t know what they were doing, didn’t have even the smallest clue, and when the tentative contact broke and he blinked, looked into Fernando’s eyes and saw the surprise mirrored in them, he knew he wasn’t alone.  
  
After a moment of staring Fernando released his breath, and it sounded sudden and loud in the silence, and Dan didn’t know how it happened, but barely a second later they were kissing again. And his heart was hammering in his chest because this time it wasn’t a simple touch, it was actually, truly a kiss. Lips timidly sliding against each other, parting hesitantly, hands uncertainly touching his arms, the tips of their tongues meeting, and he couldn’t decide if Fernando tasted familiar or foreign, only of… gummibears.  
  
Dan didn’t know where to put his hands, so they hovered over Fernando’s sides, his hips, his arms, until they finally settled on cradling his face, and in return the hands on his arms gripped a little tighter, Fernando parted his lips a little more and took one step forward that brought him so close to Dan that their upper bodies touched, and when Dan shifted just a little, his thigh fleetingly brushed against an unmistakable hardness. The whimper it dislodged from Fernando’s throat shocked and aroused him so much at the same time that he had to break away from their kiss and gasp for breath.  
  
And to see that it was _Fernando_ staring back at him gave him, irrationally, another shock. Because he had never, not for even one second, thought of his friend like that because it was _Fernando_ and he was just… too close to home. He hadn’t even figured out yet if what he wanted was girls or boys or both – what he did know though right then was that a single kiss had set his whole body on fire and his heart sprinting away.  
  
Dan opened his mouth to say something even if he didn’t have the faintest idea what, but as Fernando saw it his eyes widened momentarily before he crushed their lips together again as if preventing Dan from anything other than kissing him. It was the moment a large part of Dan simply thought ‘So what?’, made him slip his arm around Fernando’s waist and draw him closer until the length of their bodies pressed together so closely that only the thin layers of their shirts separated their racing hearts. A gentle but irresistible pull made him follow Fernando, and since they didn’t look where they were going they bumped feet and almost stumbled more than once, but eventually Fernando sank backwards, his hands clenched in Dan’s shirt and took him down onto the bed with him, and to be pressed up against each other like that wrought trembling groans from both their throats.  
  
Dan couldn’t help sliding his hips against Fernando’s, propped up on his forearms next to his friend’s head, moving almost completely on instinct now, the little shockwaves of arousal directing him. He felt Fernando angling up one leg against his hip and fisted his pillow at the simple _thought_ of it, had to break their kiss for a short moment to take a deep, uneven breath before going back again.  
  
There was a kind of sweetness in kissing Fernando, and it wasn’t because of the gummibears, but he didn’t know what it was. But he could have done this for hours, all day even, just feeling their lips sliding together, their tongues dancing, tasting, and when Fernando suddenly shifted his weight and used his leg hooked around Dan’s hip to roll them around, he let him, simply readjusted and placed his hands on Fernando’s sides, finding warm skin where the shirt had ridden up. It was an impulse that made him grab the edges and tug and pull until the shirt was over Fernando’s head and left his hair in a tousled mess.  
  
This time it was Fernando diving right back into the kiss and Dan grasping his hips and turning them back around, unintentionally coming to lie right between Fernando’s legs, making them break their kiss for a surprised gasp as their groins met. But Dan took the opportunity and let his lips wander lower to nibble on Fernando’s throat and chest while he felt impatient, uncoordinated hands tearing at his shirt. He gave his friend just a short moment to get it off, because his eyes had fixed on one small, hardened nipple right below him, and as soon as he was able to he lowered his head and let his tongue flicker over it, the first time he ever did this to anyone. And the surprised, short, but clearly audible whimper it elicited shot to his erection like a hand closing around it. He tried to even his breathing, gently closed his lips around the hardened nub and let his hand wander over the slightly trembling stomach, feeling the contours of muscles under soft skin.  
  
Of course he knew how Fernando looked, had seen him naked even a fair few times, but that didn’t mean that he had ever really paid _attention_. But now that he was lying in the small space between Fernando’s legs, having shyly fallen open, and raised his head to look up into his face, seeing it flushed, lips parted and red, breathing unsteadily, and felt the bulge of his erection under his shorts against his hand, he could only think how gorgeous he was. And that he wanted… wanted…  
  
It was Fernando, though, who moved first. Without breaking their locked gaze he unclenched his hands from the pillow next to his head and moved them to the button of his trousers, fumbling until they were undone and pushing both them and his boxer shorts over his slim hips until his hands brushed Dan’s and pushed the fabric into them to complete the motion. It made Dan’s heart stutter and stumble in his chest and his body so sensitive with arousal it was almost ridiculous.  
  
Fernando’s erection felt warm and smooth in his hand and Dan couldn’t help staring because he had never seen him hard, and he looked at the head and briefly wondered how it would taste. And he hesitated, but in the end it was his thumb that flickered over it and his lips finding Fernando’s for another kiss.  
  
If anyone had asked him in that moment – and if he had to be completely honest – he would have had to admit that he had absolutely no clue what we was doing. Of course Dan had plenty of experience with himself, had done his fair share of experimentation, had seen porn and read stuff on the internet just as any normal teenager his age, not to mention the dreaded Talk with his parents a few years ago. But he had never done _this_. Having another body pressed against his, having to find out what made that body tick, taking care of the other person’s pleasure. And it thrilled and scared him at the same time, but he figured that, as long as Fernando was writhing weakly underneath him like this and omitting those soft, incredibly arousing sounds, he was doing fine.  
  
It was just when his lips had found Fernando’s pulse under the skin of his throat, was kissing it and marvelling at how he could feel the accelerated heartbeats, that an idea hit him.  
  
He tried to untangle himself from Fernando and sat up, biting back a groan at the complaining, unwilling “Dan…” that his retreat evoked from his friend.  
  
“Wait,” he breathed out shakily and reached over to the lower drawer of his bedside table.  
  
Fernando slowly drew himself up onto his elbows to watch what he was doing as Dan rummaged around and eventually produced a small tube of lube. As his gaze fell onto Fernando’s face again, though, he froze.  
  
In his arousal-laden brain it hadn’t occurred to him at all that this had the potential for various misunderstandings, and he could feel his face heating up.  
  
“That’s… not…” Dan began to stutter, frantically searching for words. He had simply remembered that a handjob with a bit of lube was definitely better. And the package of condoms peeking out from where it was lying in the drawer – well you simply never knew, did you? They’d been there for about a year now… better be prepared, Dan had always figured. But that wasn’t even what he had thought just now. And as he watched Fernando slowly looking from him to the condoms to the lube and back, he thought for one horrible moment that he had ruined it all now.  
  
But Fernando stayed silent, just looked at him – and then slowly, hesitantly, reached out, drew one condom from the package and held it out to Dan.  
  
Dan looked at him like Fernando had just grown a second head.  
  
Fernando’s breath faltered and his hand sunk. “Do you… want to…?”  
  
Dan’s head was reeling. Was he really interpreting this in the right way? Was Fernando really asking to… if…  
  
Dan tried to get himself under control, took a breath and swallowed hard. His voice still sounded unsteady though as he answered. “Do you know how…?”  
  
Fernando bit his lower lip, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “I experimented a little,” he mumbled and looked so insecure that before Dan knew what he was doing, he had reached out and carefully cupped his face with his right hand, and as Fernando raised his eyes to lock their gaze again, Dan slowly swiped his thumb over his cheekbone.  
  
_I don’t know how to do this._  
  
_I don’t want to hurt you._  
  
_Will we be alright?_  
  
_Are you really sure?_  
  
_I didn’t even know…_  
  
But he took the condom from Fernando and was rewarded with a shaky smile that he returned with all the conviction he could find in his fluttering heart.  
  
What came then was a show of silent communication at their very best. Because Dan thought he would die if they would actually have to _talk_ about what they were doing, and he suspected Fernando felt the same. So the blond let himself sink back into the pillow and Dan kept his gaze fixed on Fernando’s face as he hesitantly trailed his fingers over smooth skin, letting them be directed by the look in Fernando’s eyes, the shifts in his features, the sounds of his breathing. And they quickly led him over the firm planes of his stomach to the joints of hip and leg and, when Fernando angled and drew them apart, between them. Dan swallowed but the look in the dark eyes encouraged him.  
  
There was no way to describe the feeling of his slicked fingertips breaching the small ring of muscles, but the tightness that gripped them did ridiculous things to Dan’s level of arousal and made his dick twitch maddeningly.  
  
_Breathe… breathe… goddamnit, Agger, get it together!_  
  
Fernando’s eyes were wide and bright and trusting and the muscles around his fingers so tight that Dan had no idea how he was even supposed to get in there. But he watched Fernando shift and shudder and squirm at the end of his carefully moving fingers, hands clenching and unclenching, and listened to the small sounds that seemed surprised half of the time until Fernando eventually let his head fall back onto the pillow.  
  
“Okay… okay, Danny, stop.”  
  
Dan drew his hand away as if on command and not by request, but Fernando didn’t pause before grabbing the condom and tearing open the package. He sat up to slide it over Dan’s erection that had reached the state of painful by now and Dan bit back a whimper, still noticing though that his friend’s hands were trembling. He wanted to ask if it was because of nerves or arousal but didn’t dare to. But before he had even closed his mouth again there were hands on the back of his neck pulling him down into a kiss, strong legs wrapping around his hips, moulding their bodies together and drawing a rough groan from him. And he couldn’t wait anymore either, simply let go of his restraint and followed the impatient cues his and Fernando’s bodies gave him.  
  
The feeling of invasion had his toes curling and they groaned at the same time, on both parts an audible mix of pleasure and pain. Dan panted against Fernando’s neck, eyes screwed shut.  
  
“Nando… don’t… oh God, please relax…”  
  
“… can’t…” was forced out next to his ear and Dan would have moved back had his hips not been caught in a death grip between Fernando’s legs. Instead he blindly felt around until he found his friend’s hand, and his grip was immediately returned.  
  
“You can, you can… come on, Nando, breathe, relax, please…”  
  
As if he had needed the reminder, the blond teenager suddenly let out the breath he’d been holding and gasped for air, and as soon as he did Dan felt the pressure around him lessening, making him groan in relief.  
  
“Yeah, that’s it… fuck, thank God, five seconds more and I swear I’d have exploded.”  
  
And suddenly Fernando was laughing, breathless and still a little strained, but the fact that he did remained, and there was a smile on his face when Dan looked at him. Fernando breathed in deeply two more times and relaxed a little more.  
  
“Wow. Okay. I’m fine, I’m good.” After another second of looking at each other though, he suddenly blushed. “Stop, don’t look at me, this is awkward.”  
  
“What? Where the hell else am I supposed to look?!”  
  
“I don’t know! Do I look like I have any clue? Move or something!”  
  
To reinforce his statement Fernando nudged his hips against Dan’s, making them jerk forward and both of them moan, and Dan simply decided to kiss his friend again. Problem solved.  
  
He went slowly at first, hips moving experimentally between Fernando’s legs, their lips sliding against each other all the while. And by God, it wasn’t easy to concentrate on anything at all, but he remembered that this was supposed to be really good for Fernando if he just found his prostate. He didn’t quite have enough breath to ask if he did though, let alone remember how to form coherent words, and he had no idea if he had found it or not. But every time his hips shot forward Fernando gasped or shivered or threw his head back or buried his fingertips in Dan’s shoulders or whimpered – God, those sounds were undoing him.  
  
First it was really harmless, just deep breaths while they kissed, but by the time Dan’s whole body started to tremble from strain and arousal Fernando was writhing on the sheets and Dan had to drown his outcries in desperate kisses. And in his head he was chanting _come, come, please come already_ , and when Fernando’s body curled tight like a bow string before shuddering violently, Dan's hand on his dick, Dan immediately came with a relieved sob.  
  
He felt his hips twitching in the aftermath, almost beyond his control, and only the sound of Fernando drawing in breath in a soft hiss eventually made him stop. His whole body still felt like lead when he found enough strength to roll away from his friend. With a grimace he fumbled to get the condom off himself, and after wrapping it up in some tissues from his night stand, wiping his hands and throwing the ball towards his waste bin he let himself fall back onto his bed.  
  
And then they just lay there, both staring at the ceiling, their breathing slowly calming down – not daring to look at each other. At first Dan was too tired and satisfied to even think, but as he slowly regained his wits he inevitably realised that one of them would have to say something eventually. He just had no idea what. What did you say to your best friend you just unexpectedly had sex with? And for the first time too.  
  
And the more time passed the more obvious the silence became. It almost sounded as if not just Dan held his breath by now, but Fernando too.  
  
_Say something… do something… oh God_ , Dan chanted in his head and tried to gather the courage to look at his friend.  
  
“Boys! Come on down, we’re getting started!”  
  
It was his mother’s voice calling from downstairs, dulled by the door, and it very nearly gave both of them a heart attack. Both boys jerked violently and, as if stung by a bee, darted up and stumbled to their feet at each side of the bed. And now their wide-eyed gazes met and Dan heard Fernando exclaim “Fuck!” just as his own lips formed the same word as he remembered in horror that, no, he hadn’t locked the door.  
  
As if on command they both started scrambling around the room in a panicked search for their clothes. While muttering “Shit, shit, shit” under his breath Dan found his jeans and Fernando’s shirt but no boxers, and one glance over at his friend revealed that he had just found one pair and already had one foot in them.  
  
“Hey, wait, those are mine!” Dan exclaimed and without thinking jumped over and tugged on the fabric. Fernando tried to swat his hand away and they started scrabbling over the shorts.  
  
“What? Where are mine then?!”  
  
“I don’t know, those are mine, look, frizzed out right here.”  
  
“Dannyyy…”  
  
“Stop whining!”  
  
“Shut up!”  
  
“You shut up. There, I think they’re under your jeans.”  
  
Fernando grumbled but finally left Dan to his shorts, and all this was so _normal_ that Dan suddenly had to grin all the way through dressing himself.  
  
Fernando spoke up when he was just buttoning his jeans, trying to sound casual.  
  
“Remember… we had this deal about telling each other about our first times. So…” he added and drew his t-shirt over his head so they couldn’t look at each other. “How was yours?”  
  
“How was _yours_?” Dan returned immediately, his heart suddenly beating more quickly in his chest again. When Fernando’s head appeared again through the collar of his shirt Dan saw that his face had taken on a soft red hue.  
  
“I asked you first, butthead.”  
  
“So? Maybe I’m not telling,” Dan shot back but gently bumped Fernando’s shoulder who slapped him over the head. Dan laughed, grabbed Fernando’s wrist and nudged him back a step until his back hit the door. And while the banter had given Dan his sense of normalcy back, such a relief that maybe things didn’t even really change, when he now looked into Fernando’s eyes, he thought he saw a bit of insecurity there.  
  
And suddenly, unexpectedly, a tenderness sprang to life in his chest that was unfamiliar to him, of a kind he hadn’t experienced for anyone else. And it suddenly made it very easy to lean towards Fernando and kiss him. Just like that, a soft, innocent touch, and when Fernando sighed and relaxed and Dan felt his friend’s hand on his hip, it was even easier to smile against his lips and admit, “Maybe it was fantastic.”


	22. V

Victory

_Running the world, it's the time of our lives, and baby we won"t ever die_   
_cause we're the young and we're alright._

* * *

It was late afternoon already, and the sun was glittering in a myriad of golden spots on the surface of the lake, shimmering like a sea of diamonds broken up on the edges and spread out for the light to dance on. Only near the banks of the lake the play was disrupted by four male youths who were enjoying summer break to the fullest and even though having spent the whole day there already didn’t even think about going home.  
  
“You’re so going to get your asses kicked,” Cesc announced while he was climbing onto Nicklas’ shoulders, but that only prompted Dan and Fernando to raise their eyebrows at each other and burst out laughing.  
  
“Careful, enano, or you’ll have to live up to your words,” the blond Spaniard grinned before Dan tugged on his hand.  
  
“Come on, baby, hop up.”  
  
Without further ado he submerged under the surface and Fernando climbed onto his shoulders to be lifted up over the water when his boyfriend stood up again.  
  
“Alright boys, let’s do this. First couple in the water is a pair of losers!”  
  
They started out slow, circling each other like a pair of lions but grinning all the time, feinting and retreating again until Cesc and Fernando finally got hold of each other and tried to wrestle the other down.  
  
Their shouts and laughter was carried far over the lake.  
  
“Get him down, get him down!”  
  
“What are you doing, stand still!”  
  
“Hey, stop, that’s _cheating_!”  
  
“Shut up down there!”  
  
“Oh you _brat_!”  
  
“No, Nicky, stop, _don’t_ –”  
  
The outcry was cut off by a loud splash and a simultaneous victory cry from two voices. And while Cesc and Nick emerged again, spluttering and indignantly splashing water onto their victorious counterparts, Dan and Fernando shouted out their triumph with unrestrained joy, hands raised into the air, a tall, joined silhouette before the slowly setting sun, overflowing with exaltation and energy only youth possessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone remember [acroyonsmile's](http://acrayonsmile.livejournal.com/42709.html#cutid1) Foursome Stories? Because I do.


	23. W

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written way back shortly after Fernando left Liverpool for Chelsea. Can't believe it's been that many years already...

Wish

_What can you do when your good isn't good enough_  
_and all that you touch tumbles down?_

* * *

Deep in his heart Fernando knew that he shouldn’t have come, that there was a good chance for his heart to be broken even more. But there was also a chance that he would find a bit of comfort, of warmth, and as small as it might be, he had come to the point where he wasn’t strong enough anymore not to take that chance.

The silhouette of the house in the dark was still painfully familiar, just as the door bell under his fingers and to raise his eyes up to the small camera. But his heart was beating fearfully in his chest because he didn’t know if that door would even open for him – ever again.  
  
It was half past two in the middle of the night that Chelsea had gone out to Manchester United in the Champions League, and Fernando hadn’t seen Dan since the defender’s elbow had bruised his nose and crushed his heart.  
  
Fernando shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, burying his fingers in the soft cloth of his old worn sweater, his eyes still fixed on the camera with stubborn hope that was waning with each second that passed. And just when Fernando sighed and lowered his head, his fingers clenching the fabric so hard they started to hurt, he heard the tell-tale sound of the gate unlocking. And he didn’t hesitate for a second to get inside, driven by a mix of hope and desperation.  
  
When the door opened and Fernando saw Daniel’s silhouette in the faint light, clad in sweatpants, hair tousled, face expressionless, for a moment it felt like his heart tumbled out of his chest and right before Dan’s feet, and he wanted to say something, to apologise for doing this, for possibly waking up Sofie and Jamie, but he couldn’t utter even a single word. So they looked at each other until Daniel opened his mouth and said, “Having fun living your dream?”  
  
And the words were like the most perfect vicious punch to the guts, robbing him of the ability to breathe, and he had to lower his head because he didn’t want Dan to see that one simple question had brought his weak self-control down and helpless tears to his eyes.  
  
Maybe he should just turn and walk away and spare himself the humiliation of being dismissed by the only person he had dared to turn to.  
  
Fernando drew in a shaky breath and already took half a step back, but right in that moment Dan did the same and opened the door a little wider. A silent invitation, and Fernando tried not to follow his heart too obviously that leapt at the unexpected chance he had been given.  
  
The house was silent and dark and Dan didn’t bother turning on any lights as he led Fernando into the living room. And the Spaniard wasn’t sure what he had expected or even hoped for, but in any case nothing of it happened. Because Dan simply took two small couch cushions, placed them in one corner, and then reached for the blanket that was lying folded over the backrest.  
  
“You can sleep here,” he said, nothing else, voice even and expressionless, and Fernando thought he had never hurt more than in that moment.  
  
“Okay,” he whispered, choked, buried his nails in the palms of his hand and tried to keep himself from looking after Dan as he wordlessly left the room.  
  
The leather was cold on his skin as he lay down, the blanket smelling of clear, fresh laundry detergent as he wrapped himself into it, his whole body feeling stiff and cold and foreign, as it had for months now. But then he turned his face into the pillows and was assaulted by that scent that triggered so many memories and feelings that it felt like he was hit by a train.  
  
And the tears came again, unstoppable this time, leaking from his closed eyes and being soaked up by the pillow, silently shaking his body as he pressed his lips together and desperately tried to keep quiet and still.  
  
His chest was so tight he could barely breathe with the simple, crushing, all-encompassing longing to go _home_ , and it just made it all worse because he felt so lost, didn’t even know anymore where home was. London, Liverpool, Madrid? With his parents, his friends, his wife, his kids? There was no doubt that he still loved them with every fibre of his heart. And yet it felt as if all those feelings had been numbed, as if some time in that last year he had lost the ability to love – to _feel_ – as he once had. As if nothing could reach that part of him anymore that was happiness, the whole world behind a grey, blurring curtain.  
  
And then there was a hand on his shoulder, a weight dipping the cushions he was lying on, and Fernando didn’t have the energy to be surprised, or even to open his eyes, only to turn and bury himself in the embrace that was offered, and a fresh torrent of tears forced their way out with a quiet, choked sob.  
  
Dan held him while he cried, a wordless presence but comfort beyond measure in the familiarity alone. And because the tears had been confined for ages there were many of them, but not once did Dan make any move away from him, give any indication of waning patience. He simply held him wordlessly until Fernando was too exhausted to cry anymore. Instead he drifted off into a trance-like state somewhere between awake and asleep. Dan’s scent, his body Fernando was nestled against, it still evoked the same feelings in him that it always had: all-encompassing warmth and safety mixed with guilt, but it was familiar enough to calm him and ease his breathing to a point of near sleep.  
  
But even though his thoughts had become sluggish, they didn’t stop. And they wanted out, spurred by this unexpected chance he had been given, and when Fernando heard himself starting to talk, to mutter dazedly against Dan’s skin, it was almost like listening to someone else.  
  
“Y’know… I was always good at imagining stuff,” he started softly, and Dan stayed where he was, didn’t move, but maybe he listened. “How things could’ve been, a whole life in the blink of an eye. After that first… match… in the showers, ‘n my nose was hurting like hell, I was thinking… imagining… I remembered signing for Liverpool… meeting you…”  
  
Fernando sighed, breath hitching, fingers curling in Dan’s shirt.  
  
“Everything was so _good_ … but then I remembered Xabi leaving, that horrible… season… stupid, fucked up injury… coming seventh, Masch leaving, Rafa leaving… damn owner war… everything getting worse ‘n worse…”  
  
He had to stop, needed to breathe, breathe, not hurt, Dan… Fernando shuddered, swallowed heavily and spoke on.  
  
“Remembered walking in the park, ‘n there was this boy and his mum asking for an autograph… gave it to him, but I didn’t even really look at him, didn’t even smile… nothing like I would’ve done before… how I realised I couldn’t… anymore… couldn’t go on like this… God, I thought…”  
  
And again he fell silent, thinking about the way Dan felt against him, firm and warm and secure. And he wished… he wished…  
  
“And then I imagined, if just a small thing would’ve been different like… like NESV buying us right away instead of those… those… I thought… saw everything being… better… us winning the league that one year… when we were so close… lifting that cup, celebrating… everything _right_ … being in the Champions League… me not getting fucked up cause of that… injury… and imagined us in that same match against Chelsea, thrashing them…”  
  
His throat was closing up again, but he needed to say this, needed Dan to hear even though he had become stiff against him.  
  
“Saw us in the showers afterwards too, just you ‘n me… ‘n we had sex right there, ‘n we were… glowing… ‘n you asked… if I thought ‘bout leaving cause we still hadn’t won _El Champions_ … and I laughed ‘n said… ‘Don’t be stupid… why’d I ever wanna leave…’ But I was still in the showers with all those people I didn’t know… alone… still hurting so bad…”  
  
His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, his closed eyes stinging drily, but Dan’s hand was brushing over his hair, just once.  
  
“I wanted… I just wanted… _lo siento_ … I… I’m _sorry_ …”  
  
“Shh,” Dan whispered and Fernando let himself fall into his unwavering presence. Wished he could simply stay here and not have to worry about scoring a goal ever again.  
  
“Dan… will you… will you ever forgive me?”  
  
The body against his lay unnaturally still, and it remained silent around them, heavily, defeatingly silent. And even though Fernando’s heart bled he stayed there in Dan’s arms and held on because he knew that whatever he was going to get, it would have to be enough to get him not just through the night, but a lot longer than that.


	24. X

X-Rated

_Laughing like children, living like lovers_   
_rolling like thunder under the covers_

* * *

“I bet you never thought you’d star in an x-rated movie some day,” Fernando grinned down at him from where he was propped up over Dan on his hands. His blond strands were dishevelled, his dark eyes shining, his face glowing with arousal and Dan couldn’t help placing his hands over Fernando’s hip bones right where his lover was straddling him and gently guiding his lazily circling hips up and down. He mirrored the cheeky smile directed at him.  
  
“No. Definitely not.”  
  
They both couldn’t help glancing over to where the camera was placed on a tripod next to a corner of the foot end of their bed, and neither could they suppress the adrenaline-induced, giddy laughter.  
  
Then Fernando lowered his head and caught Dan’s lips in a kiss, moulding their lips together with luxurious, languid abandon, maybe a little too much tongue, maybe a little too lascivious just for the camera, but Dan’s moan was real and heart-felt, his hands tightening around Fernando’s hips, his own bucking up into the willing body of his lover.  
  
“You know,” he remarked as soon as their lips broke contact, the grin almost challenging, “I never really took you as the type for having porn star qualities…”  
  
Fernando snorted and tightened around him in retaliation, making Dan gasp.  
  
“You need to work on your compliments, baby.”  
  
“I think that one actually was pretty… good… oh…”  
  
The blond smirked, ground his hips down again and threw his head back in pleasure as that spot inside him was rubbed oh so deliciously.  
  
They didn’t need much more to get off, and in the end they didn’t care if they moved in the right angle or made the right noises, they clang to each other in brain-melting fits of passion until even the last shudders had subsided.  
  
When Fernando lay bonelessly on Dan’s chest and Dan had one arm loosely wrapped around Fernando’s waist, a low chuckle filled the sex-scented air.  
  
“You know what we should call it? One night in –”  
  
“Don’t. Even. _Think._ It.”


	25. Y

Yes

_To every life a light that shines, to every heart a beat that's true_   
_Baby, you're my yellow summer, baby, you're my winterblue_

* * *

The sun was shining down bright and brilliant on the rough alpine rock face, a weak breeze from time to time cooling the tanned, sweat-glistening faces and bare arms of the two figures slowly but surely making their way upwards. Their movements had an effortless routine to them, their fingers and feet finding the ledges and creases in the rocky surface as if drawn to them by a magnet, and despite the strained muscles they both still had enough breath in them to enjoy this to the fullest.  
  
“How are you up there?” Daniel’s voice floated up to where his companion was just fixing a new safety hook to the rock, drawing a smile from him.  
  
“Couldn’t be better. You? Tiring?”  
  
The question evoked low laughter from the Dane, and his answer was almost a purr that sent a pleasant shiver through Fernando’s body, weakening his arms for just a heartbeat.  
  
“In your dreams, baby.”  
  
“Don’t make me hard while your life is in my hands,” Fernando returned but couldn’t quite fight the amused grin curling around the corners of his mouth as he reached upwards and climbed on.  
  
“Well now you know how I feel with your ass in my line of sight whenever I look up.”  
  
Fernando had to grapple for his hold for just a moment as unexpected laughter shook his body. “Oh my God!”  
  
A low, slightly breathless chuckle reached his ears and he resisted the urge to look down at Dan. “Fine. I’ll shut up.”  
  
Fernando huffed and readjusted his position, his foot finding another place to support his weight. A glance upward revealed that their goal couldn’t be much more than six meters away now. “We’re almost there.”  
  
The rest of the climb was spent in comfortable silence, and once they had safely reached their destination, Fernando flung himself onto his back on the ground, relishing the adrenaline in his veins brought by success, his straining muscles that told a very clear tale of the exertion but left him tired and elated at the same time.  
  
“Wow, that was fucking perfect.”  
  
Daniel, lying and breathing deeply next to him, gave a small laugh and stretched his arms before folding them under his head. “Almost as good as the one in the Pyrenees two years ago. Remember that one?”  
  
Fernando didn’t even have to think. “Of course.” A grin slowly began to curl around his lips. “I remember too how you broke our bed there.”  
  
“Me? Me?!” Dan snorted in disbelief. “That was both of us, mister.”  
  
“I still refuse to take any blame in that,” Fernando grinned, eyes fixed on a hint of white on the otherwise clear, endless blue overhead. The field of his vision limited by absolutely nothing at all. He slowly moved his legs, feeling his muscles tremble slightly as he drew up his knees and put the soles of his feet on the ground.  
  
“Remember how we got snowed in in our car on the way back?” he wanted to know, the smile on his face now more reminiscent.  
  
“Sure. Thank God for the two huge coffee thermos jugs.”  
  
“And the mini muffins. Don’t forget those.”  
  
“God, I thought you looked adorable peeking out of that Eskimo hood of your winter jacket.”  
  
“It was cold, okay?”  
  
“The heating was on.”  
  
“It still was. Twat.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Fernando breathed in deeply, the warm air carrying the faint scent of herbs and mountain.  
  
“Remember that power cut on your mum’s birthday?”  
  
“That was hilarious. And we could sneak away to make out in some dark corner.”  
  
“Did I ever tell you that your brother stumbled in on us there?”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“Yup. You were too distracted to notice. And he just stared with really wide eyes before fleeing.”  
  
“Fucking hell…”  
  
Low laughter, Fernando’s elbow knocking into Dan’s side.  
  
“Remember your parents coming over for a surprise visit right during our epic baking battle?”  
  
“Oh God. I’ll never forget their faces when you opened the door all covered in dough and farina.”  
  
“Damn it, and I'd planned for the cleaning to involve me licking the dough off you.”  
  
“Mmh. Good thing you didn’t though. My mum’s face was already disapproving enough when she saw the kitchen.”  
  
“Pff.”  
  
“Aaww don’t pout.”  
  
A low, half disapproving but half content sound escaping his throat, too comfortable in the warm sun for anything else.  
  
“Remember when we went to see the Lion King musical?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“You cried.”  
  
“What? No I didn’t.”  
  
“You did. Right at the first song, I saw. It was why I finally kissed you that night.”  
  
A soft, affectionate smile directed right at him.  
  
“Remember the fireworks in Sydney?”  
  
“Clear as day. Just as that look of wonder on your face.”  
  
“Now you’re getting sappy.”  
  
“I’m never sappy.”  
  
“You’re a total sap…”  
  
A short tousle ensued, quiet, gasped laughs before they tiredly settled again, Fernando’s cheek against Dan’s shoulder.  
  
“Remember that time Pepe dragged us to karaoke and you and Olalla sang ‘Don’t you want me’?”  
  
“Mmhh sure. Way before we got together.”  
  
“I fell in love with you in that moment.”  
  
“I always knew you were crazy.”  
  
They simultaneously looked at each other, and burst out into lazy laughter, letting it trail off while watching the wide alpine summer sky.  
  
“Wanna do something dumb and marry me?”  
  
Fernando blinked and turned his head to catch the look on Dan’s face, the small, tender smile on his lips, the sun in his eyes.  
  
Tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.  
  
“Yes.”


	26. Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it, folks! I can't believe how long it took me to get all this out and posted, but here we go. Thank you all for reading, for the kudos and especially the comments, I was so happy to share this with you. Thank you for sticking with me to the end, and I promise, I have a great bunch of stories more about these two that will see the light of day on AO3. :)
> 
> To end this, have a glimpse of a long gone utopian dream. <3

Zenith

_I'm on the edge of glory_   
_and I'm hanging by a moment with you_

* * *

The ball cut through the air in a wide, flawless arch, and as it hit the back of the net, the stadium exploded around them. And the euphoric elation of their fans followed Fernando as he, spiked with adrenaline and ecstasy to the very brink, ran past the beaten goalkeeper, screaming out his almost delirious joy. And despite it all his every step had a purpose, was taken only to bring him straight towards that man who had made this goal possible, evading everyone else, no matter how badly they wanted to celebrate with him. And when he reached him, he jumped into his arms full speed, legs wrapped around him, and Dan stumbled back two steps before finally going down.  
  
It didn’t matter, nothing mattered, only that feeling of pure happiness cursing through their veins as they clung to each other there on the pitch, their team mates arriving to pile up on top of them, shouting with joy, Stevie, Xabi, Dirk, Lucas, Martin, Pepe, no one that didn’t come.  
  
And underneath the mass of overjoyed players, Dan and Fernando held on to each other, shaking and laughing in utter bliss. Trying to take the moment and savour it, bury it deep in their hearts and minds so that it would never, ever leave them.  
  
Because they knew that in this moment, they were on top of the world, and there was no step that could take them any higher. This was what everyone hoped to achieve only once in their lifetime. They were complete, flawless, invincible.  
  
Perfect.


End file.
